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ToMy welcom you to Ordinal BTCh!
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           id="tspan2119">I_say...U_say..._#7</tspan></text><rect
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           id="tspan2121">     bitliever.bitcoin</tspan></text><text
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al;font-variant-caps:normal;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;text-align:center;text-anchor:middle;fill:#000000;stroke-width:0.264583"
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      id="tspan421">I say: &quot;What's properly decentralized?&quot;</tspan><tspan
           sodipodi:role="line"
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           dy="5">You say: &quot;The Bitcoin network.&quot;</tspan><tspan
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One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found
himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his
armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his
brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections.
The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off
any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the
rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.M
 he thought. It wasn
t a dream. His room, a
proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between
its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out
Samsa was a travelling salesman
and above it there hung a
picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and
housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur
hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered
ole of her lower arm towards the viewer.
Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of
rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad.
How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this
, he thought, but that was something he was unable to do
because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state
t get into that position. However hard he threw himself onto his
right, he always rolled back to where he was. He musM
hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn
t have to look at the
floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull
pain there that he had never felt before.
what a strenuous career it is that I
Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this takes much more
effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there
the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad
food, contact with different people all the time so that
you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. It can
 He felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself
slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his
head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with
lots of little white spots which he didn
t know what to make of; and
when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly
back because as soon as he tM
ouched it he was overcome by a cold
He slid back into his former position.
Getting up early all the time
it makes you stupid. You
ve got to get enough sleep. Other
travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. For instance, whenever I go
back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract,
these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts.
I ought to just try that with my boss; I
d get kicked out on the spot.
But who knows, maybe that woM
uld be the best thing for me. If I didn
have my parents to think about I
d have given in my notice a long time
d have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell
him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He
off his desk! And it
s a funny sort of business to be sitting up there
at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there,
especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard
of hearing. Well, there
together to pay off my parents
another five or six years I
change. First of all though, I
ve got to get up, my train leaves at
And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest of drawers.
 he thought. It was half past six and the hands were
quietly moving forwards, it was even later than half past, more like
quarter to seven. Had the alarm cM
lock not rung? He could see from the
bed that it had been set for four o
clock as it should have been; it
certainly must have rung. Yes, but was it possible to quietly sleep
through that furniture-rattling noise? True, he had not slept
peacefully, but probably all the more deeply because of that. What
should he do now? The next train went at seven; if he were to catch
that he would have to rush like mad and the collection of samples was
still not packed, and he did not at all feel particularly fresh and
ively. And even if he did catch the train he would not avoid his
s anger as the office assistant would have been there to see the
clock train go, he would have put in his report about Gregor
not being there a long time ago. The office assistant was the boss
man, spineless, and with no understanding. What about if he reported
sick? But that would be extremely strained and suspicious as in five
years of service Gregor had never once yet been ill. His boss would
certainly come round withM
 the doctor from the medical insurance
company, accuse his parents of having a lazy son, and accept the
s recommendation not to make any claim as the doctor believed
that no-one was ever ill but that many were workshy. And what
would he have been entirely wrong in this case? Gregor did in fact,
apart from excessive sleepiness after sleeping for so long, feel
completely well and even felt much hungrier than usual.
He was still hurriedly thinking all this through, unable to decide to
out of the bed, when the clock struck quarter to seven. There was a
cautious knock at the door near his head.
s quarter to seven. Didn
 That gentle voice! Gregor was shocked when he heard his own
voice answering, it could hardly be recognised as the voice he had had
before. As if from deep inside him, there was a painful and
uncontrollable squeaking mixed in with it, the words could be made out
at first but then thereM
 was a sort of echo which made them unclear,
leaving the hearer unsure whether he had heard properly or not. Gregor
had wanted to give a full answer and explain everything, but in the
circumstances contented himself with saying:
 The change in Gregor
could not be noticed outside through the wooden door, as his mother was
satisfied with this explanation and shuffled away. But this short
conversation made the other members of the familyM
against their expectations was still at home, and soon his father came
knocking at one of the side doors, gently, but with his fist.
 And after a short while he called
again with a warning deepness in his voice:
other side door his sister came plaintively:
Do you need anything?
 Gregor answered to both sides:
making an effort to remove all the strangenM
ess from his voice by
enunciating very carefully and putting long pauses between each,
individual word. His father went back to his breakfast, but his sister
Gregor, open the door, I beg of you.
 Gregor, however, had
no thought of opening the door, and instead congratulated himself for
his cautious habit, acquired from his travelling, of locking all doors
at night even when he was at home.
The first thing he wanted to do was to get up in peace without being
disturbed, to get dressed, and mM
ost of all to have his breakfast. Only
then would he consider what to do next, as he was well aware that he
would not bring his thoughts to any sensible conclusions by lying in
bed. He remembered that he had often felt a slight pain in bed, perhaps
caused by lying awkwardly, but that had always turned out to be pure
imagination and he wondered how his imaginings would slowly resolve
themselves today. He did not have the slightest doubt that the change
in his voice was nothing more than the first sign of a seM
which was an occupational hazard for travelling salesmen.
It was a simple matter to throw off the covers; he only had to blow
himself up a little and they fell off by themselves. But it became
difficult after that, especially as he was so exceptionally broad. He
would have used his arms and his hands to push himself up; but instead
of them he only had all those little legs continuously moving in
different directions, and which he was moreover unable to control. If
he wanted to bend one of themM
, then that was the first one that would
stretch itself out; and if he finally managed to do what he wanted with
that leg, all the others seemed to be set free and would move about
This is something that can
t keep trying to do it
The first thing he wanted to do was get the lower part of his body out
of the bed, but he had never seen this lower part, and could not
imagine what it looked like; it turned out to be too hard to move; M
went so slowly; and finally, almost in a frenzy, when he carelessly
shoved himself forwards with all the force he could gather, he chose
the wrong direction, hit hard against the lower bedpost, and learned
from the burning pain he felt that the lower part of his body might
well, at present, be the most sensitive.
So then he tried to get the top part of his body out of the bed first,
carefully turning his head to the side. This he managed quite easily,
and despite its breadth and its weight, the bulk ofM
 his body eventually
followed slowly in the direction of the head. But when he had at last
got his head out of the bed and into the fresh air it occurred to him
that if he let himself fall it would be a miracle if his head were not
injured, so he became afraid to carry on pushing himself forward the
same way. And he could not knock himself out now at any price; better
to stay in bed than lose consciousness.
It took just as much effort to get back to where he had been earlier,
but when he lay there sighingM
, and was once more watching his legs as
they struggled against each other even harder than before, if that was
possible, he could think of no way of bringing peace and order to this
chaos. He told himself once more that it was not possible for him to
stay in bed and that the most sensible thing to do would be to get free
of it in whatever way he could at whatever sacrifice. At the same time,
though, he did not forget to remind himself that calm consideration was
much better than rushing to desperate conclusM
ions. At times like this
he would direct his eyes to the window and look out as clearly as he
could, but unfortunately, even the other side of the narrow street was
enveloped in morning fog and the view had little confidence or cheer to
, he said to himself when the clock
s still a fog like this.
he lay there quietly a while longer, breathing lightly as if he perhaps
expected the total stillness to bring things backM
But then he said to himself:
Before it strikes quarter past seven I
definitely have to have got properly out of bed. And by then somebody
will have come round from work to ask what
s happened to me as well, as
they open up at work before seven o
 And so he set himself to
the task of swinging the entire length of his body out of the bed all
at the same time. If he succeeded in falling out of bed in this way and
kept his head raised as he did so he coulM
d probably avoid injuring it.
His back seemed to be quite hard, and probably nothing would happen to
it falling onto the carpet. His main concern was for the loud noise he
was bound to make, and which even through all the doors would probably
raise concern if not alarm. But it was something that had to be risked.
When Gregor was already sticking half way out of the bed
was more of a game than an effort, all he had to do was rock back and
it occurred to him how simple everything wouM
came to help him. Two strong people
he had his father and the maid in
would have been more than enough; they would only have to push
their arms under the dome of his back, peel him away from the bed, bend
down with the load and then be patient and careful as he swang over
onto the floor, where, hopefully, the little legs would find a use.
Should he really call for help though, even apart from the fact that
all the doors were locked? Despite all the difficulty he was in, he
ot suppress a smile at this thought.
After a while he had already moved so far across that it would have
been hard for him to keep his balance if he rocked too hard. The time
was now ten past seven and he would have to make a final decision very
soon. Then there was a ring at the door of the flat.
, he said to himself, and froze very still, although
his little legs only became all the more lively as they danced around.
For a moment everything remained quiet.
 not opening the door
Gregor said to himself, caught in some nonsensical hope. But then of
s firm steps went to the door as ever and opened it.
Gregor only needed to hear the visitor
s first words of greeting and he
the chief clerk himself. Why did Gregor have to be the
only one condemned to work for a company where they immediately became
highly suspicious at the slightest shortcoming? Were all employees,
every one of them, louts, was there not one of them who was M
and devoted who would go so mad with pangs of conscience that he
t get out of bed if he didn
t spend at least a couple of hours
in the morning on company business? Was it really not enough to let one
of the trainees make enquiries
assuming enquiries were even
did the chief clerk have to come himself, and did they have
to show the whole, innocent family that this was so suspicious that
only the chief clerk could be trusted to have the wisdom to investigate
se these thoughts had made him upset than through any
proper decision, he swang himself with all his force out of the bed.
There was a loud thump, but it wasn
t really a loud noise. His fall was
softened a little by the carpet, and Gregor
s back was also more
elastic than he had thought, which made the sound muffled and not too
noticeable. He had not held his head carefully enough, though, and hit
it as he fell; annoyed and in pain, he turned it and rubbed it against
, said the chief clerk in the room on
the left. Gregor tried to imagine whether something of the sort that
had happened to him today could ever happen to the chief clerk too; you
had to concede that it was possible. But as if in gruff reply to this
question, the chief clerk
s firm footsteps in his highly polished boots
could now be heard in the adjoining room. From the room on his right,
s sister whispered to him to let him know:
, said Gregor to himself; but without
daring to raise his voice loud enough for his sister to hear him.
, said his father now from the room to his left,
clerk has come round and wants to know why you didn
t know what to say to him. And anyway, he wants to
speak to you personally. So please open up this door. I
good enough to forgive the untidiness of your room.
Good morning, Mr. SamsaM
mother to the chief clerk, while his father continued to speak through
t well, please believe me. Why else would Gregor have
missed a train! The lad only ever thinks about the business. It nearly
makes me cross the way he never goes out in the evenings; he
town for a week now but stayed home every evening. He sits with us in
the kitchen and just reads the paper or studies train timetables. His
idea of relaxation is working with his fretsaM
frame, for instance, it only took him two or three evenings, you
amazed how nice it is; it
s hanging up in his room; you
soon as Gregor opens the door. Anyway, I
t have been able to get Gregor to open the door by ourselves;
s so stubborn; and I
t well, he said this morning that
ll be there in a moment
, said Gregor slowly
and thoughtfully, but without moving so that hM
e would not miss any word
of the conversation.
t think of any other way of explaining
, said the chief clerk,
But on the other hand, I must say that if we people in commerce ever
become slightly unwell then, fortunately or unfortunately as you like,
we simply have to overcome it because of business considerations.
the chief clerk come in to see you now then?
impatiently, knocking at the door again.
d Gregor. In the room
on his right there followed a painful silence; in the room on his left
his sister began to cry.
So why did his sister not go and join the others? She had probably only
just got up and had not even begun to get dressed. And why was she
crying? Was it because he had not got up, and had not let the chief
clerk in, because he was in danger of losing his job and if that
happened his boss would once more pursue their parents with the same
demands as before? There was no need to worry aboutM
yet. Gregor was still there and had not the slightest intention of
abandoning his family. For the time being he just lay there on the
carpet, and no-one who knew the condition he was in would seriously
have expected him to let the chief clerk in. It was only a minor
discourtesy, and a suitable excuse could easily be found for it later
on, it was not something for which Gregor could be sacked on the spot.
And it seemed to Gregor much more sensible to leave him now in peace
bing him with talking at him and crying. But the
t know what was happening, they were worried, that would
excuse their behaviour.
The chief clerk now raised his voice,
what is wrong? You barricade yourself in your room, give us no more
than yes or no for an answer, you are causing serious and unnecessary
concern to your parents and you fail
and I mention this just by the
you fail to carry out your business duties in a way that is quite
m speaking here on behalf of your parents and of your
employer, and really must request a clear and immediate explanation. I
am astonished, quite astonished. I thought I knew you as a calm and
sensible person, and now you suddenly seem to be showing off with
peculiar whims. This morning, your employer did suggest a possible
reason for your failure to appear, it
it had to do with the
money that was recently entrusted to you
but I came near to giving him
my word of honour that that could notM
 be the right explanation. But now
that I see your incomprehensible stubbornness I no longer feel any wish
whatsoever to intercede on your behalf. And nor is your position all
that secure. I had originally intended to say all this to you in
private, but since you cause me to waste my time here for no good
t see why your parents should not also learn of it. Your
turnover has been very unsatisfactory of late; I grant you that it
not the time of year to do especially good business, we recogniM
but there simply is no time of year to do no business at all, Mr.
Samsa, we cannot allow there to be.
, called Gregor, beside himself and forgetting all else in the
ll open up immediately, just a moment. I
unwell, an attack of dizziness, I haven
t been able to get up. I
m quite fresh again now, though. I
out of bed. Just a moment. Be patient! It
s not quite as easy as I
s shocking, what can
suddenly happen to a person! I was quite alright last night, my parents
know about it, perhaps better than me, I had a small symptom of it last
night already. They must have noticed it. I don
you know at work! But you always think you can get over an illness
without staying at home. Please, don
t make my parents suffer! There
no basis for any of the accusations you
word to me about any of these thingsM
contracts I sent in. I
ll set off with the eight o
well, these few hours of rest have given me strength. You don
ll be in the office soon after you, and please be so good
as to tell that to the boss and recommend me to him!
And while Gregor gushed out these words, hardly knowing what he was
saying, he made his way over to the chest of drawers
done, probably because of the practise he had already had inM
he now tried to get himself upright. He really did want to open the
door, really did want to let them see him and to speak with the chief
clerk; the others were being so insistent, and he was curious to learn
what they would say when they caught sight of him. If they were shocked
then it would no longer be Gregor
s responsibility and he could rest.
If, however, they took everything calmly he would still have no reason
to be upset, and if he hurried he really could be at the station for
clock. The first few times he tried to climb up on the smooth
chest of drawers he just slid down again, but he finally gave himself
one last swing and stood there upright; the lower part of his body was
in serious pain but he no longer gave any attention to it. Now he let
himself fall against the back of a nearby chair and held tightly to the
edges of it with his little legs. By now he had also calmed down, and
kept quiet so that he could listen to what the chief clerk was saying.
 a word of all that?
 the chief clerk asked his
s not trying to make fools of us
called his mother, who was already in tears,
he could be seriously ill
re making him suffer. Grete! Grete!
his sister called from the other side. They communicated across
ll have to go for the doctor straight away. Gregor
is ill. Quick, get the doctor. Did you hear the way Gregor spoke just
, said the chief clerk, with a
calmness that was in contrast with his mother
his father called into the kitchen through the entrance hall, clapping
get a locksmith here, now!
 And the two girls, their skirts
swishing, immediately ran out through the hall, wrenching open the
front door of the flat as they went. How had his sister managed to get
dressed so quickly? There was no sound of the door banging shut again;
they must have left it open;M
 people often do in homes where something
Gregor, in contrast, had become much calmer. So they couldn
understand his words any more, although they seemed clear enough to
him, clearer than before
perhaps his ears had become used to the sound.
They had realised, though, that there was something wrong with him, and
were ready to help. The first response to his situation had been
confident and wise, and that made him feel better. He felt that he had
been drawn back in among people, aM
nd from the doctor and the locksmith
he expected great and surprising achievements
really distinguish one from the other. Whatever was said next would be
crucial, so, in order to make his voice as clear as possible, he
coughed a little, but taking care to do this not too loudly as even
this might well sound different from the way that a human coughs and he
was no longer sure he could judge this for himself. Meanwhile, it had
become very quiet in the next room. Perhaps his parents were sM
table whispering with the chief clerk, or perhaps they were all pressed
against the door and listening.
Gregor slowly pushed his way over to the door with the chair. Once
there he let go of it and threw himself onto the door, holding himself
upright against it using the adhesive on the tips of his legs. He
rested there a little while to recover from the effort involved and
then set himself to the task of turning the key in the lock with his
mouth. He seemed, unfortunately, to have no proper teetM
then, to grasp the key?
but the lack of teeth was, of course, made up
for with a very strong jaw; using the jaw, he really was able to start
the key turning, ignoring the fact that he must have been causing some
kind of damage as a brown fluid came from his mouth, flowed over the
key and dripped onto the floor.
, said the chief clerk in the
 Gregor was greatly encouraged by
this; but they all should have been calling to him, his father andM
, they should have cried,
keep hold of the lock!
 And with the idea that they were all excitedly
following his efforts, he bit on the key with all his strength, paying
no attention to the pain he was causing himself. As the key turned
round he turned around the lock with it, only holding himself upright
with his mouth, and hung onto the key or pushed it down again with the
whole weight of his body as needed. The clear sound of the lock as it
s sign that he could break his concentration,
and as he regained his breath he said to himself:
the locksmith after all
. Then he lay his head on the handle of the
door to open it completely.
Because he had to open the door in this way, it was already wide open
before he could be seen. He had first to slowly turn himself around one
of the double doors, and he had to do it very carefully if he did not
want to fall flat on his back before entering the room. He was stM
occupied with this difficult movement, unable to pay attention to
anything else, when he heard the chief clerk exclaim a loud
which sounded like the soughing of the wind. Now he also saw him
the nearest to the door
his hand pressed against his open mouth and
slowly retreating as if driven by a steady and invisible force.
s mother, her hair still dishevelled from bed despite the chief
s being there, looked at his father. Then she unfolded her arms,
rward towards Gregor and sank down onto the floor into
her skirts that spread themselves out around her as her head
disappeared down onto her breast. His father looked hostile, and
clenched his fists as if wanting to knock Gregor back into his room.
Then he looked uncertainly round the living room, covered his eyes with
his hands and wept so that his powerful chest shook.
So Gregor did not go into the room, but leant against the inside of the
other door which was still held bolted in place. In this way onlM
of his body could be seen, along with his head above it which he leant
over to one side as he peered out at the others. Meanwhile the day had
become much lighter; part of the endless, grey-black building on the
other side of the street
which was a hospital
clearly with the austere and regular line of windows piercing its
ade; the rain was still falling, now throwing down large, individual
droplets which hit the ground one at a time. The washing up from
breakfast lay on theM
 table; there was so much of it because, for
s father, breakfast was the most important meal of the day and
he would stretch it out for several hours as he sat reading a number of
different newspapers. On the wall exactly opposite there was photograph
of Gregor when he was a lieutenant in the army, his sword in his hand
and a carefree smile on his face as he called forth respect for his
uniform and bearing. The door to the entrance hall was open and as the
front door of the flat was also open he couM
ld see onto the landing and
the stairs where they began their way down below.
, said Gregor, well aware that he was the only one to have
ll get dressed straight away now, pack up my samples and
set off. Will you please just let me leave? You can see
m not stubborn and I like to do my job; being
a commercial traveller is arduous but without travelling I couldn
earn my living. So where are you going, in to the office? Yes? Will M
report everything accurately, then? It
s quite possible for someone to
be temporarily unable to work, but that
s just the right time to
s been achieved in the past and consider that later on,
once the difficulty has been removed, he will certainly work with all
the more diligence and concentration. You
re well aware that I
seriously in debt to our employer as well as having to look after my
parents and my sister, so that I
m trapped in a difficult situation,
y way out of it again. Please don
harder for me than they are already, and don
t take sides against me at
the office. I know that nobody likes the travellers. They think we earn
an enormous wage as well as having a soft time of it. That
prejudice but they have no particular reason to think better of it. But
you, sir, you have a better overview than the rest of the staff, in
fact, if I can say this in confidence, a better overview than the boss
s very easy for a bM
usinessman like him to make mistakes
about his employees and judge them more harshly than he should. And
re also well aware that we travellers spend almost the whole year
away from the office, so that we can very easily fall victim to gossip
and chance and groundless complaints, and it
s almost impossible to
defend yourself from that sort of thing, we don
about them, or if at all it
s when we arrive back home exhausted from a
s when we feel the harmful effectsM
on without even knowing what caused them. Please, don
least first say something to show that you grant that I
But the chief clerk had turned away as soon as Gregor had started to
speak, and, with protruding lips, only stared back at him over his
trembling shoulders as he left. He did not keep still for a moment
while Gregor was speaking, but moved steadily towards the door without
taking his eyes off him. He moved very gradually, as if M
some secret prohibition on leaving the room. It was only when he had
reached the entrance hall that he made a sudden movement, drew his foot
from the living room, and rushed forward in a panic. In the hall, he
stretched his right hand far out towards the stairway as if out there,
there were some supernatural force waiting to save him.
Gregor realised that it was out of the question to let the chief clerk
go away in this mood if his position in the firm was not to be put into
 That was something his parents did not understand very
well; over the years, they had become convinced that this job would
provide for Gregor for his entire life, and besides, they had so much
to worry about at present that they had lost sight of any thought for
the future. Gregor, though, did think about the future. The chief clerk
had to be held back, calmed down, convinced and finally won over; the
future of Gregor and his family depended on it! If only his sister were
here! She was clever; she was alreaM
dy in tears while Gregor was still
lying peacefully on his back. And the chief clerk was a lover of women,
surely she could persuade him; she would close the front door in the
entrance hall and talk him out of his shocked state. But his sister was
not there, Gregor would have to do the job himself. And without
considering that he still was not familiar with how well he could move
about in his present state, or that his speech still might not
be understood, he let go of the door; pusM
through the opening; tried to reach the chief clerk on the landing who,
ridiculously, was holding on to the banister with both hands; but
Gregor fell immediately over and, with a little scream as he sought
something to hold onto, landed on his numerous little legs. Hardly had
that happened than, for the first time that day, he began to feel
alright with his body; the little legs had the solid ground under them;
to his pleasure, they did exactly as he told them; they were even
making the effort tM
o carry him where he wanted to go; and he was soon
believing that all his sorrows would soon be finally at an end. He held
back the urge to move but swayed from side to side as he crouched there
on the floor. His mother was not far away in front of him and seemed,
at first, quite engrossed in herself, but then she suddenly jumped up
with her arms outstretched and her fingers spread shouting:
 The way she held her head suggested she wanted to
see Gregor better, but the unthM
inking way she was hurrying backwards
showed that she did not; she had forgotten that the table was behind
her with all the breakfast things on it; when she reached the table she
sat quickly down on it without knowing what she was doing; without even
seeming to notice that the coffee pot had been knocked over and a gush
of coffee was pouring down onto the carpet.
, said Gregor gently, looking up at her. He had
completely forgotten the chief clerk for the moment, but could not help
elf snapping in the air with his jaws at the sight of the flow of
coffee. That set his mother screaming anew, she fled from the table and
into the arms of his father as he rushed towards her. Gregor, though,
had no time to spare for his parents now; the chief clerk had already
reached the stairs; with his chin on the banister, he looked back for
the last time. Gregor made a run for him; he wanted to be sure of
reaching him; the chief clerk must have expected something, as he leapt
down several steps at once M
and disappeared; his shouts resounding all
around the staircase. The flight of the chief clerk seemed,
unfortunately, to put Gregor
s father into a panic as well. Until then
he had been relatively self controlled, but now, instead of running
after the chief clerk himself, or at least not impeding Gregor as he
ran after him, Gregor
s father seized the chief clerk
right hand (the chief clerk had left it behind on a chair, along with
his hat and overcoat), picked up a large newspaper from tM
his left, and used them to drive Gregor back into his room, stamping
his foot at him as he went. Gregor
s appeals to his father were of no
help, his appeals were simply not understood, however much he humbly
turned his head his father merely stamped his foot all the harder.
Across the room, despite the chilly weather, Gregor
open a window, leant far out of it and pressed her hands to her face. A
strong draught of air flew in from the street towards the stairway, the
tains flew up, the newspapers on the table fluttered and some of
them were blown onto the floor. Nothing would stop Gregor
he drove him back, making hissing noises at him like a wild man. Gregor
had never had any practice in moving backwards and was only able to go
very slowly. If Gregor had only been allowed to turn round he would
have been back in his room straight away, but he was afraid that if he
took the time to do that his father would become impatient, and there
was the threat of a lethM
al blow to his back or head from the stick in
s hand any moment. Eventually, though, Gregor realised that
he had no choice as he saw, to his disgust, that he was quite incapable
of going backwards in a straight line; so he began, as quickly as
possible and with frequent anxious glances at his father, to turn
himself round. It went very slowly, but perhaps his father was able to
see his good intentions as he did nothing to hinder him, in fact now
and then he used the tip of his stick to give direM
distance as to which way to turn. If only his father would stop that
unbearable hissing! It was making Gregor quite confused. When he had
nearly finished turning round, still listening to that hissing, he made
a mistake and turned himself back a little the way he had just come. He
was pleased when he finally had his head in front of the doorway, but
then saw that it was too narrow, and his body was too broad to get
through it without further difficulty. In his present mood, it
t occur to his father to open the other of the double
doors so that Gregor would have enough space to get through. He was
merely fixed on the idea that Gregor should be got back into his room
as quickly as possible. Nor would he ever have allowed Gregor the time
to get himself upright as preparation for getting through the doorway.
What he did, making more noise than ever, was to drive Gregor forwards
all the harder as if there had been nothing in the way; it sounded to
Gregor as if there was now more than oM
ne father behind him; it was not
a pleasant experience, and Gregor pushed himself into the doorway
without regard for what might happen. One side of his body lifted
itself, he lay at an angle in the doorway, one flank scraped on the
white door and was painfully injured, leaving vile brown flecks on it,
soon he was stuck fast and would not have been able to move at all by
himself, the little legs along one side hung quivering in the air while
those on the other side were pressed painfully against the ground. M
his father gave him a hefty shove from behind which released him from
where he was held and sent him flying, and heavily bleeding, deep into
his room. The door was slammed shut with the stick, then, finally, all
It was not until it was getting dark that evening that Gregor awoke
from his deep and coma-like sleep. He would have woken soon afterwards
anyway even if he hadn
t been disturbed, as he had had enough sleep and
felt fully rested. But he had the impression that some hurrieM
and the sound of the door leading into the front room being carefully
shut had woken him. The light from the electric street lamps shone
palely here and there onto the ceiling and tops of the furniture, but
down below, where Gregor was, it was dark. He pushed himself over to
the door, feeling his way clumsily with his antennae
now beginning to learn the value
in order to see what had been
happening there. The whole of his left side seemed like one, painfully
stretched scar, and hM
e limped badly on his two rows of legs. One of the
legs had been badly injured in the events of that morning
a miracle that only one of them had been
and dragged along lifelessly.
It was only when he had reached the door that he realised what it
actually was that had drawn him over to it; it was the smell of
something to eat. By the door there was a dish filled with sweetened
milk with little pieces of white bread floating in it. He was so
pleased he almost laughed, as he was even hungrieM
that morning, and immediately dipped his head into the milk, nearly
covering his eyes with it. But he soon drew his head back again in
disappointment; not only did the pain in his tender left side make it
difficult to eat the food
he was only able to eat if his whole body
worked together as a snuffling whole
but the milk did not taste at all
nice. Milk like this was normally his favourite drink, and his sister
had certainly left it there for him because of that, but he turned,
against his own will, away from the dish and crawled back into
the centre of the room.
Through the crack in the door, Gregor could see that the gas had been
lit in the living room. His father at this time would normally be sat
with his evening paper, reading it out in a loud voice to Gregor
mother, and sometimes to his sister, but there was now not a sound to
s sister would often write and tell him about this
reading, but maybe his father had lost the habit in recent times. It
o quiet all around too, even though there must have been somebody
What a quiet life it is the family lead
himself, and, gazing into the darkness, felt a great pride that he was
able to provide a life like that in such a nice home for his sister and
parents. But what now, if all this peace and wealth and comfort should
come to a horrible and frightening end? That was something that Gregor
did not want to think about too much, so he started to move about,
crawling up and downM
Once during that long evening, the door on one side of the room was
opened very slightly and hurriedly closed again; later on the door on
the other side did the same; it seemed that someone needed to enter the
room but thought better of it. Gregor went and waited immediately by
the door, resolved either to bring the timorous visitor into the room
in some way or at least to find out who it was; but the door was opened
no more that night and Gregor waited in vain. The previous morning
oors were locked everyone had wanted to get in there to him,
but now, now that he had opened up one of the doors and the other had
clearly been unlocked some time during the day, no-one came, and the
keys were in the other sides.
It was not until late at night that the gaslight in the living room was
put out, and now it was easy to see that his parents and sister had
stayed awake all that time, as they all could be distinctly heard as
they went away together on tip-toe. It was clear that no-one would come
s room any more until morning; that gave him plenty of time
to think undisturbed about how he would have to re-arrange his life.
For some reason, the tall, empty room where he was forced to remain
made him feel uneasy as he lay there flat on the floor, even though he
had been living in it for five years. Hardly aware of what he was doing
other than a slight feeling of shame, he hurried under the couch. It
pressed down on his back a little, and he was no longer able to lift
his head, but he nonM
etheless felt immediately at ease and his only
regret was that his body was too broad to get it all underneath.
He spent the whole night there. Some of the time he passed in a light
sleep, although he frequently woke from it in alarm because of his
hunger, and some of the time was spent in worries and vague hopes
which, however, always led to the same conclusion: for the time being
he must remain calm, he must show patience and the greatest
consideration so that his family could bear the unpleasantness thaM
in his present condition, was forced to impose on them.
Gregor soon had the opportunity to test the strength of his decisions,
as early the next morning, almost before the night had ended, his
sister, nearly fully dressed, opened the door from the front room and
looked anxiously in. She did not see him straight away, but when she
did notice him under the couch
he had to be somewhere, for God
she was so shocked that she lost control of
herself and slammed tM
he door shut again from outside. But she seemed to
regret her behaviour, as she opened the door again straight away and
came in on tip-toe as if entering the room of someone seriously ill or
even of a stranger. Gregor had pushed his head forward, right to the
edge of the couch, and watched her. Would she notice that he had left
the milk as it was, realise that it was not from any lack of hunger and
bring him in some other food that was more suitable? If she didn
it herself he would rather go hungry thM
an draw her attention to it,
although he did feel a terrible urge to rush forward from under the
couch, throw himself at his sister
s feet and beg her for something
good to eat. However, his sister noticed the full dish immediately and
looked at it and the few drops of milk splashed around it with some
surprise. She immediately picked it up
using a rag, not her bare
and carried it out. Gregor was extremely curious as to what she
would bring in its place, imagining the wildest possibilities, but hM
never could have guessed what his sister, in her goodness, actually did
bring. In order to test his taste, she brought him a whole selection of
things, all spread out on an old newspaper. There were old, half-rotten
vegetables; bones from the evening meal, covered in white sauce that
had gone hard; a few raisins and almonds; some cheese that Gregor had
declared inedible two days before; a dry roll and some bread spread
with butter and salt. As well as all that she had poured some water
into the dish, whicM
h had probably been permanently set aside for
s use, and placed it beside them. Then, out of consideration for
s feelings, as she knew that he would not eat in front of her,
she hurried out again and even turned the key in the lock so that
Gregor would know he could make things as comfortable for himself as he
s little legs whirred, at last he could eat. What
his injuries must already have completely healed as he found no
difficulty in moving. This amazed him, as mM
ore than a month earlier he
had cut his finger slightly with a knife, he thought of how his finger
had still hurt the day before yesterday.
Am I less sensitive than I
, he thought, and was already sucking greedily at the
cheese which had immediately, almost compellingly, attracted him much
more than the other foods on the newspaper. Quickly one after another,
his eyes watering with pleasure, he consumed the cheese, the vegetables
and the sauce; the fresh foods, on the other hand, he diM
all, and even dragged the things he did want to eat a little way away
from them because he couldn
t stand the smell. Long after he had
finished eating and lay lethargic in the same place, his sister slowly
turned the key in the lock as a sign to him that he should withdraw. He
was immediately startled, although he had been half asleep, and he
hurried back under the couch. But he needed great self-control to stay
there even for the short time that his sister was in the room, as
h food had rounded out his body a little and he could
hardly breathe in that narrow space. Half suffocating, he watched with
bulging eyes as his sister unselfconsciously took a broom and swept up
the left-overs, mixing them in with the food he had not even touched at
all as if it could not be used any more. She quickly dropped it all
into a bin, closed it with its wooden lid, and carried everything out.
She had hardly turned her back before Gregor came out again from under
the couch and stretched himself.
This was how Gregor received his food each day now, once in the morning
while his parents and the maid were still asleep, and the second time
after everyone had eaten their meal at midday as his parents would
sleep for a little while then as well, and Gregor
the maid away on some errand. Gregor
s father and mother certainly did
not want him to starve either, but perhaps it would have been more than
they could stand to have any more experience of his feeding than being
and perhaps his sister wanted to spare them what
distress she could as they were indeed suffering enough.
It was impossible for Gregor to find out what they had told the doctor
and the locksmith that first morning to get them out of the flat. As
nobody could understand him, nobody, not even his sister, thought that
he could understand them, so he had to be content to hear his sister
sighs and appeals to the saints as she moved about his room. It was
only later, when she had become a little more used toM
was, of course, no question of her ever becoming fully used to the
that Gregor would sometimes catch a friendly comment, or at
least a comment that could be construed as friendly.
, she might say when he had diligently cleared away all
the food left for him, or if he left most of it, which slowly became
more and more frequent, she would often say, sadly,
just been left there again
Although Gregor wasn
o hear any news directly he did listen to
much of what was said in the next rooms, and whenever he heard anyone
speaking he would scurry straight to the appropriate door and press his
whole body against it. There was seldom any conversation, especially at
first, that was not about him in some way, even if only in secret. For
two whole days, all the talk at every mealtime was about what they
should do now; but even between meals they spoke about the same subject
as there were always at least two members of thM
wanted to be at home by themselves and it was out of the question to
leave the flat entirely empty. And on the very first day the maid had
fallen to her knees and begged Gregor
s mother to let her go without
delay. It was not very clear how much she knew of what had happened but
she left within a quarter of an hour, tearfully thanking Gregor
mother for her dismissal as if she had done her an enormous service.
She even swore emphatically not to tell anyone the slightest about wM
had happened, even though no-one had asked that of her.
s sister also had to help his mother with the cooking;
although that was not so much bother as no-one ate very much. Gregor
often heard how one of them would unsuccessfully urge another to eat,
and receive no more answer than
something similar. No-one drank very much either. His sister would
sometimes ask his father whether he would like a beer, hoping for the
chance to go and fetch it herself. WM
hen his father then said nothing
she would add, so that he would not feel selfish, that she could send
the housekeeper for it, but then his father would close the matter with
, and no more would be said.
Even before the first day had come to an end, his father had explained
s mother and sister what their finances and prospects were.
Now and then he stood up from the table and took some receipt or
document from the little cash box he had saved from his business when
ollapsed five years earlier. Gregor heard how he opened the
complicated lock and then closed it again after he had taken the item
he wanted. What he heard his father say was some of the first good news
that Gregor heard since he had first been incarcerated in his room. He
had thought that nothing at all remained from his father
least he had never told him anything different, and Gregor had never
asked him about it anyway. Their business misfortune had reduced the
family to a state of total dM
s only concern at that
time had been to arrange things so that they could all forget about it
as quickly as possible. So then he started working especially hard,
with a fiery vigour that raised him from a junior salesman to a
travelling representative almost overnight, bringing with it the chance
to earn money in quite different ways. Gregor converted his success at
work straight into cash that he could lay on the table at home for the
benefit of his astonished and delighted family. TheyM
times and they had never come again, at least not with the same
splendour, even though Gregor had later earned so much that he was in a
position to bear the costs of the whole family, and did bear them. They
had even got used to it, both Gregor and the family, they took the
money with gratitude and he was glad to provide it, although there was
no longer much warm affection given in return. Gregor only remained
close to his sister now. Unlike him, she was very fond of music and a
pressive violinist, it was his secret plan to send her to
the conservatory next year even though it would cause great expense
that would have to be made up for in some other way. During Gregor
short periods in town, conversation with his sister would often turn to
the conservatory but it was only ever mentioned as a lovely dream that
could never be realised. Their parents did not like to hear this
innocent talk, but Gregor thought about it quite hard and decided he
would let them know what he planned witM
h a grand announcement of it on
That was the sort of totally pointless thing that went through his mind
in his present state, pressed upright against the door and listening.
There were times when he simply became too tired to continue listening,
when his head would fall wearily against the door and he would pull it
up again with a start, as even the slightest noise he caused would be
heard next door and they would all go silent.
, his father would say aftM
er a while, clearly having gone over to
the door, and only then would the interrupted conversation slowly be
When explaining things, his father repeated himself several times,
partly because it was a long time since he had been occupied with these
matters himself and partly because Gregor
s mother did not understand
everything the first time. From these repeated explanations Gregor
learned, to his pleasure, that despite all their misfortunes there was
still some money available from the M
old days. It was not a lot, but it
had not been touched in the meantime and some interest had accumulated.
Besides that, they had not been using up all the money that Gregor had
been bringing home every month, keeping only a little for himself, so
that that, too, had been accumulating. Behind the door, Gregor nodded
with enthusiasm in his pleasure at this unexpected thrift and caution.
He could actually have used this surplus money to reduce his father
debt to his boss, and the day when he could have freM
that job would have come much closer, but now it was certainly better
the way his father had done things.
This money, however, was certainly not enough to enable the family to
live off the interest; it was enough to maintain them for, perhaps, one
or two years, no more. That
s to say, it was money that should not
really be touched but set aside for emergencies; money to live on had
to be earned. His father was healthy but old, and lacking in self
confidence. During the five years that heM
 had not been working
first holiday in a life that had been full of strain and no success
had put on a lot of weight and become very slow and clumsy. Would
s elderly mother now have to go and earn money? She suffered
from asthma and it was a strain for her just to move about the home,
every other day would be spent struggling for breath on the sofa by the
open window. Would his sister have to go and earn money? She was still
a child of seventeen, her life up till then had been very enviabM
consisting of wearing nice clothes, sleeping late, helping out in the
business, joining in with a few modest pleasures and most of all
playing the violin. Whenever they began to talk of the need to earn
money, Gregor would always first let go of the door and then throw
himself onto the cool, leather sofa next to it, as he became quite hot
with shame and regret.
He would often lie there the whole night through, not sleeping a wink
but scratching at the leather for hours on end. Or he might go to all
he effort of pushing a chair to the window, climbing up onto the sill
and, propped up in the chair, leaning on the window to stare out of it.
He had used to feel a great sense of freedom from doing this, but doing
it now was obviously something more remembered than experienced, as
what he actually saw in this way was becoming less distinct every day,
even things that were quite near; he had used to curse the ever-present
view of the hospital across the street, but now he could not see it at
d not known that he lived in Charlottenstrasse, which
was a quiet street despite being in the middle of the city, he could
have thought that he was looking out the window at a barren waste where
the grey sky and the grey earth mingled inseparably. His observant
sister only needed to notice the chair twice before she would always
push it back to its exact position by the window after she had tidied
up the room, and even left the inner pane of the window open from then
If Gregor had only been able to spM
eak to his sister and thank her for
all that she had to do for him it would have been easier for him to
bear it; but as it was it caused him pain. His sister, naturally, tried
as far as possible to pretend there was nothing burdensome about it,
and the longer it went on, of course, the better she was able to do so,
but as time went by Gregor was also able to see through it all so much
better. It had even become very unpleasant for him, now, whenever she
entered the room. No sooner had she come in than she woM
close the door as a precaution so that no-one would have to suffer the
s room, then she would go straight to the window and
pull it hurriedly open almost as if she were suffocating. Even if it
was cold, she would stay at the window breathing deeply for a little
while. She would alarm Gregor twice a day with this running about and
noise making; he would stay under the couch shivering the whole while,
knowing full well that she would certainly have liked to spare him this
, but it was impossible for her to be in the same room with him
with the windows closed.
One day, about a month after Gregor
s transformation when his sister no
longer had any particular reason to be shocked at his appearance, she
came into the room a little earlier than usual and found him still
staring out the window, motionless, and just where he would be most
horrible. In itself, his sister
s not coming into the room would have
been no surprise for Gregor as it would have been difficult for her to
immediately open the window while he was still there, but not only did
she not come in, she went straight back and closed the door behind her,
a stranger would have thought he had threatened her and tried to bite
her. Gregor went straight to hide himself under the couch, of course,
but he had to wait until midday before his sister came back and she
seemed much more uneasy than usual. It made him realise that she still
found his appearance unbearable and would continue to do so, she
probably even had to overM
come the urge to flee when she saw the little
bit of him that protruded from under the couch. One day, in order to
spare her even this sight, he spent four hours carrying the bedsheet
over to the couch on his back and arranged it so that he was completely
covered and his sister would not be able to see him even if she bent
down. If she did not think this sheet was necessary then all she had to
do was take it off again, as it was clear enough that it was no
pleasure for Gregor to cut himself off so completelyM
sheet where it was. Gregor even thought he glimpsed a look of gratitude
one time when he carefully looked out from under the sheet to see how
his sister liked the new arrangement.
For the first fourteen days, Gregor
s parents could not bring
themselves to come into the room to see him. He would often hear them
say how they appreciated all the new work his sister was doing even
though, before, they had seen her as a girl who was somewhat useless
and frequently been annoyed with her. But noM
w the two of them, father
and mother, would often both wait outside the door of Gregor
while his sister tidied up in there, and as soon as she went out again
she would have to tell them exactly how everything looked, what Gregor
had eaten, how he had behaved this time and whether, perhaps, any
slight improvement could be seen. His mother also wanted to go in and
visit Gregor relatively soon but his father and sister at first
persuaded her against it. Gregor listened very closely to all this, and
proved fully. Later, though, she had to be held back by force, which
Let me go and see Gregor, he is my unfortunate son!
t you understand I have to see him?
, and Gregor would think to
himself that maybe it would be better if his mother came in, not every
day of course, but one day a week, perhaps; she could understand
everything much better than his sister who, for all her courage, was
still just a child after all, and really might not have had an adult
appreciation of the M
burdensome job she had taken on.
s wish to see his mother was soon realised. Out of consideration
for his parents, Gregor wanted to avoid being seen at the window during
the day, the few square meters of the floor did not give him much room
to crawl about, it was hard to just lie quietly through the night, his
food soon stopped giving him any pleasure at all, and so, to entertain
himself, he got into the habit of crawling up and down the walls and
ceiling. He was especially fond of hanging from thM
quite different from lying on the floor; he could breathe more freely;
his body had a light swing to it; and up there, relaxed and almost
happy, it might happen that he would surprise even himself by letting
go of the ceiling and landing on the floor with a crash. But now, of
course, he had far better control of his body than before and, even
with a fall as great as that, caused himself no damage. Very soon his
sister noticed Gregor
s new way of entertaining himself
left traces of the adhesive from his feet as he crawled about
got it into her head to make it as easy as possible for him by removing
the furniture that got in his way, especially the chest of drawers and
the desk. Now, this was not something that she would be able to do by
herself; she did not dare to ask for help from her father; the sixteen
year old maid had carried on bravely since the cook had left but she
certainly would not have helped in this, she had even asked to be
allowed to keep the kitcheM
n locked at all times and never to have to
open the door unless it was especially important; so his sister had no
choice but to choose some time when Gregor
s father was not there and
fetch his mother to help her. As she approached the room, Gregor could
hear his mother express her joy, but once at the door she went silent.
First, of course, his sister came in and looked round to see that
everything in the room was alright; and only then did she let her
mother enter. Gregor had hurriedly pulled the sheet dM
couch and put more folds into it so that everything really looked as if
it had just been thrown down by chance. Gregor also refrained, this
time, from spying out from under the sheet; he gave up the chance to
see his mother until later and was simply glad that she had come.
, said his sister, obviously leading her
in by the hand. The old chest of drawers was too heavy for a pair of
feeble women to be heaving about, but Gregor listened as they pushedM
from its place, his sister always taking on the heaviest part of the
work for herself and ignoring her mother
s warnings that she would
strain herself. This lasted a very long time. After labouring at it for
fifteen minutes or more his mother said it would be better to leave the
chest where it was, for one thing it was too heavy for them to get the
job finished before Gregor
s father got home and leaving it in the
middle of the room it would be in his way even more, and for another
 even sure that taking the furniture away would really
be any help to him. She thought just the opposite; the sight of the
bare walls saddened her right to her heart; and why wouldn
feel the same way about it, he
d been used to this furniture in his
room for a long time and it would make him feel abandoned to be in an
empty room like that. Then, quietly, almost whispering as if wanting
Gregor (whose whereabouts she did not know) to hear not even the tone
of her voice, as she was convinced that hM
e did not understand her
and by taking the furniture away, won
ve given up all hope of improvement and we
abandoning him to cope for himself? I think it
d be best to leave the
room exactly the way it was before so that when Gregor comes back to us
ll find everything unchanged and he
ll be able to forget the
time in between all the easier
Hearing these words from his mother made Gregor realise that the lack
 human communication, along with the monotonous life led
by the family during these two months, must have made him confused
could think of no other way of explaining to himself why he had
seriously wanted his room emptied out. Had he really wanted to
transform his room into a cave, a warm room fitted out with the nice
furniture he had inherited? That would have let him crawl around
unimpeded in any direction, but it would also have let him quickly
forget his past when he had still been human. He had comM
forgetting, and it had only been the voice of his mother, unheard for
so long, that had shaken him out of it. Nothing should be removed;
everything had to stay; he could not do without the good influence the
furniture had on his condition; and if the furniture made it difficult
for him to crawl about mindlessly that was not a loss but a great
His sister, unfortunately, did not agree; she had become used to the
idea, not without reason, that she was Gregor
arents about the things that concerned him. This meant that his
s advice now was sufficient reason for her to insist on removing
not only the chest of drawers and the desk, as she had thought at
first, but all the furniture apart from the all-important couch. It was
more than childish perversity, of course, or the unexpected confidence
she had recently acquired, that made her insist; she had indeed noticed
that Gregor needed a lot of room to crawl about in, whereas the
furniture, as far as anyone coM
uld see, was of no use to him at all.
Girls of that age, though, do become enthusiastic about things and feel
they must get their way whenever they can. Perhaps this was what
tempted Grete to make Gregor
s situation seem even more shocking than
it was so that she could do even more for him. Grete would probably be
the only one who would dare enter a room dominated by Gregor crawling
about the bare walls by himself.
So she refused to let her mother dissuade her. Gregor
 his room, she soon stopped speaking and helped
s sister to get the chest of drawers out with what strength she
had. The chest of drawers was something that Gregor could do without if
he had to, but the writing desk had to stay. Hardly had the two women
pushed the chest of drawers, groaning, out of the room than Gregor
poked his head out from under the couch to see what he could do about
it. He meant to be as careful and considerate as he could, but,
unfortunately, it was his mother who came back fiM
rst while Grete in the
next room had her arms round the chest, pushing and pulling at it from
side to side by herself without, of course, moving it an inch. His
mother was not used to the sight of Gregor, he might have made her ill,
so Gregor hurried backwards to the far end of the couch. In his
startlement, though, he was not able to prevent the sheet at its front
from moving a little. It was enough to attract his mother
She stood very still, remained there a moment, and then went back out
Gregor kept trying to assure himself that nothing unusual was
happening, it was just a few pieces of furniture being moved after all,
but he soon had to admit that the women going to and fro, their little
calls to each other, the scraping of the furniture on the floor, all
these things made him feel as if he were being assailed from all sides.
With his head and legs pulled in against him and his body pressed to
the floor, he was forced to admit to himself that he could not stand
longer. They were emptying his room out; taking away
everything that was dear to him; they had already taken out the chest
containing his fretsaw and other tools; now they threatened to remove
the writing desk with its place clearly worn into the floor, the desk
where he had done his homework as a business trainee, at high school,
even while he had been at infant school
he really could not wait any
longer to see whether the two women
s intentions were good. He had
nearly forgotten they were there anyway,M
 as they were now too tired to
say anything while they worked and he could only hear their feet as
they stepped heavily on the floor.
So, while the women were leant against the desk in the other room
catching their breath, he sallied out, changed direction four times not
knowing what he should save first before his attention was suddenly
caught by the picture on the wall
which was already denuded of
everything else that had been on it
of the lady dressed in copious fur.
He hurried up onto the picture M
and pressed himself against its glass,
it held him firmly and felt good on his hot belly. This picture at
least, now totally covered by Gregor, would certainly be taken away by
no-one. He turned his head to face the door into the living room so
that he could watch the women when they came back.
They had not allowed themselves a long rest and came back quite soon;
Grete had put her arm around her mother and was nearly carrying her.
What shall we take now, then?
, said Grete and looked around. Her eyes
met those of Gregor on the wall. Perhaps only because her mother was
there, she remained calm, bent her face to her so that she would not
look round and said, albeit hurriedly and with a tremor in her voice:
s go back in the living room for a while?
see what Grete had in mind, she wanted to take her mother somewhere
safe and then chase him down from the wall. Well, she could certainly
try it! He sat unyielding on his picture. He would rather jump at
s words had made her mother quite worried, she stepped to one
side, saw the enormous brown patch against the flowers of the
wallpaper, and before she even realised it was Gregor that she saw
 Arms outstretched, she fell onto the couch
as if she had given up everything and stayed there immobile.
shouted his sister, glowering at him and shaking her fist. That was the
first word she had spoken to him directly since his transformation. She
ran into the other roM
om to fetch some kind of smelling salts to bring
her mother out of her faint; Gregor wanted to help too
his picture later, although he stuck fast to the glass and had to pull
himself off by force; then he, too, ran into the next room as if he
could advise his sister like in the old days; but he had to just stand
behind her doing nothing; she was looking into various bottles, he
startled her when she turned round; a bottle fell to the ground and
broke; a splinter cut Gregor
 of caustic medicine
splashed all over him; now, without delaying any longer, Grete took
hold of all the bottles she could and ran with them in to her mother;
she slammed the door shut with her foot. So now Gregor was shut out
from his mother, who, because of him, might be near to death; he could
not open the door if he did not want to chase his sister away, and she
had to stay with his mother; there was nothing for him to do but wait;
and, oppressed with anxiety and self-reproach, he began to crawl about,
he crawled over everything, walls, furniture, ceiling, and finally in
his confusion as the whole room began to spin around him he fell down
into the middle of the dinner table.
He lay there for a while, numb and immobile, all around him it was
quiet, maybe that was a good sign. Then there was someone at the door.
The maid, of course, had locked herself in her kitchen so that Grete
would have to go and answer it. His father had arrived home.
 were his first words; Grete
everything clear to him. She answered him with subdued voice, and
openly pressed her face into his chest:
better now. Gregor got out.
just as I always said, but you women wouldn
t listen, would you.
was clear to Gregor that Grete had not said enough and that his father
took it to mean that something bad had happened, that he was
responsible for some act of violence. That meant Gregor would now have
o try to calm his father, as he did not have the time to explain
things to him even if that had been possible. So he fled to the door of
his room and pressed himself against it so that his father, when he
came in from the hall, could see straight away that Gregor had the best
intentions and would go back into his room without delay, that it would
not be necessary to drive him back but that they had only to open the
door and he would disappear.
His father, though, was not in the mood to notice subtleties liM
, he shouted as he came in, sounding as if he were both angry and
glad at the same time. Gregor drew his head back from the door and
lifted it towards his father. He really had not imagined his father the
way he stood there now; of late, with his new habit of crawling about,
he had neglected to pay attention to what was going on the rest of the
flat the way he had done before. He really ought to have expected
things to have changed, but still, still, was that really his father?
red man as used to be laying there entombed in his bed when
Gregor came back from his business trips, who would receive him sitting
in the armchair in his nightgown when he came back in the evenings; who
was hardly even able to stand up but, as a sign of his pleasure, would
just raise his arms and who, on the couple of times a year when they
went for a walk together on a Sunday or public holiday wrapped up
tightly in his overcoat between Gregor and his mother, would always
labour his way forward a little morM
e slowly than them, who were already
walking slowly for his sake; who would place his stick down carefully
and, if he wanted to say something would invariably stop and gather his
companions around him. He was standing up straight enough now; dressed
in a smart blue uniform with gold buttons, the sort worn by the
employees at the banking institute; above the high, stiff collar of the
coat his strong double-chin emerged; under the bushy eyebrows, his
piercing, dark eyes looked out fresh and alert; his normallyM
white hair was combed down painfully close to his scalp. He took his
cap, with its gold monogram from, probably, some bank, and threw it in
an arc right across the room onto the sofa, put his hands in his
trouser pockets, pushing back the bottom of his long uniform coat, and,
with look of determination, walked towards Gregor. He probably did not
even know himself what he had in mind, but nonetheless lifted his feet
unusually high. Gregor was amazed at the enormous size of the soles of
t wasted no time with that
he knew full well, right from
the first day of his new life, that his father thought it necessary to
always be extremely strict with him. And so he ran up to his father,
stopped when his father stopped, scurried forwards again when he moved,
even slightly. In this way they went round the room several times
without anything decisive happening, without even giving the impression
of a chase as everything went so slowly. Gregor remained all this time
on the floor, largely because he M
feared his father might see it as
especially provoking if he fled onto the wall or ceiling. Whatever he
did, Gregor had to admit that he certainly would not be able to keep up
this running about for long, as for each step his father took he had to
carry out countless movements. He became noticeably short of breath,
even in his earlier life his lungs had not been very reliable. Now, as
he lurched about in his efforts to muster all the strength he could for
running he could hardly keep his eyes open; his thougM
slow for him to think of any other way of saving himself than running;
he almost forgot that the walls were there for him to use although,
here, they were concealed behind carefully carved furniture full of
notches and protrusions
then, right beside him, lightly tossed,
something flew down and rolled in front of him. It was an apple; then
another one immediately flew at him; Gregor froze in shock; there was
no longer any point in running as his father had decided to bombard
ed his pockets with fruit from the bowl on the
sideboard and now, without even taking the time for careful aim, threw
one apple after another. These little, red apples rolled about on the
floor, knocking into each other as if they had electric motors. An
apple thrown without much force glanced against Gregor
off without doing any harm. Another one however, immediately following
it, hit squarely and lodged in his back; Gregor wanted to drag himself
away, as if he could remove the surprising,M
 the incredible pain by
changing his position; but he felt as if nailed to the spot and spread
himself out, all his senses in confusion. The last thing he saw was the
door of his room being pulled open, his sister was screaming, his
mother ran out in front of her in her blouse (as his sister had taken
off some of her clothes after she had fainted to make it easier for her
to breathe), she ran to his father, her skirts unfastened and sliding
one after another to the ground, stumbling over the skirts she pusheM
herself to his father, her arms around him, uniting herself with him
now Gregor lost his ability to see anything
s head begging him to spare Gregor
No-one dared to remove the apple lodged in Gregor
remained there as a visible reminder of his injury. He had suffered it
there for more than a month, and his condition seemed serious enough to
remind even his father that Gregor, despite his current sad and
revolting form, was a famM
ily member who could not be treated as an
enemy. On the contrary, as a family there was a duty to swallow any
revulsion for him and to be patient, just to be patient.
Because of his injuries, Gregor had lost much of his mobility
permanently. He had been reduced to the condition of an ancient invalid
and it took him long, long minutes to crawl across his room
over the ceiling was out of the question
but this deterioration in his
condition was fully (in his opinion) made up for by theM
living room being left open every evening. He got into the habit of
closely watching it for one or two hours before it was opened and then,
lying in the darkness of his room where he could not be seen from the
living room, he could watch the family in the light of the dinner table
and listen to their conversation
s permission, in a way,
and thus quite differently from before.
They no longer held the lively conversations of earlier times, of
course, the ones that Gregor alwayM
s thought about with longing when he
was tired and getting into the damp bed in some small hotel room. All
of them were usually very quiet nowadays. Soon after dinner, his father
would go to sleep in his chair; his mother and sister would urge each
other to be quiet; his mother, bent deeply under the lamp, would sew
fancy underwear for a fashion shop; his sister, who had taken a sales
job, learned shorthand and French in the evenings so that she might be
able to get a better position later on. Sometimes his M
up and say to Gregor
re doing so much sewing again
, as if he did not know that he had been dozing
would go back to sleep again while mother and sister would exchange a
With a kind of stubbornness, Gregor
s father refused to take his
uniform off even at home; while his nightgown hung unused on its peg
s father would slumber where he was, fully dressed, as if always
ready to serve and expecting to hear the voice of his supeM
here. The uniform had not been new to start with, but as a result of
this it slowly became even shabbier despite the efforts of Gregor
mother and sister to look after it. Gregor would often spend the whole
evening looking at all the stains on this coat, with its gold buttons
always kept polished and shiny, while the old man in it would sleep,
highly uncomfortable but peaceful.
As soon as it struck ten, Gregor
s mother would speak gently to his
father to wake him and try to persuade him to M
go to bed, as he couldn
sleep properly where he was and he really had to get his sleep if he
was to be up at six to get to work. But since he had been in work he
had become more obstinate and would always insist on staying longer at
the table, even though he regularly fell asleep and it was then harder
than ever to persuade him to exchange the chair for his bed. Then,
however much mother and sister would importune him with little
reproaches and warnings he would keep slowly shaking his head for a
r of an hour with his eyes closed and refusing to get up.
s mother would tug at his sleeve, whisper endearments into his
s sister would leave her work to help her mother, but
nothing would have any effect on him. He would just sink deeper into
his chair. Only when the two women took him under the arms he would
abruptly open his eyes, look at them one after the other and say:
a life! This is what peace I get in my old age!
 And supported by the
two women he would lift himself M
up carefully as if he were carrying the
greatest load himself, let the women take him to the door, send them
off and carry on by himself while Gregor
s mother would throw down her
needle and his sister her pen so that they could run after his father
and continue being of help to him.
Who, in this tired and overworked family, would have had time to give
more attention to Gregor than was absolutely necessary? The household
budget became even smaller; so now the maid was dismissed; an enormous,
 charwoman with white hair that flapped around her head came
every morning and evening to do the heaviest work; everything else was
looked after by Gregor
s mother on top of the large amount of sewing
work she did. Gregor even learned, listening to the evening
conversation about what price they had hoped for, that several items of
jewellery belonging to the family had been sold, even though both
mother and sister had been very fond of wearing them at functions and
celebrations. But the loudest complaint waM
s that although the flat was
much too big for their present circumstances, they could not move out
of it, there was no imaginable way of transferring Gregor to the new
address. He could see quite well, though, that there were more reasons
than consideration for him that made it difficult for them to move, it
would have been quite easy to transport him in any suitable crate with
a few air holes in it; the main thing holding the family back from
their decision to move was much more to do with their total despaM
and the thought that they had been struck with a misfortune unlike
anything experienced by anyone else they knew or were related to. They
carried out absolutely everything that the world expects from poor
s father brought bank employees their breakfast, his
mother sacrificed herself by washing clothes for strangers, his sister
ran back and forth behind her desk at the behest of the customers, but
they just did not have the strength to do any more. And the injury in
 to hurt as much as when it was new. After they had
come back from taking his father to bed Gregor
would now leave their work where it was and sit close together, cheek
to cheek; his mother would point to Gregor
, and then, when he was in the dark again, they would sit
in the next room and their tears would mingle, or they would simply sit
there staring dry-eyed at the table.
Gregor hardly slept at all, either night or day. Sometimes he wouM
think of taking over the family
s affairs, just like before, the next
time the door was opened; he had long forgotten about his boss and the
chief clerk, but they would appear again in his thoughts, the salesmen
and the apprentices, that stupid teaboy, two or three friends from
other businesses, one of the chambermaids from a provincial hotel, a
tender memory that appeared and disappeared again, a cashier from a hat
shop for whom his attention had been serious but too slow,
m, mixed together with strangers and others he had
forgotten, but instead of helping him and his family they were all of
them inaccessible, and he was glad when they disappeared. Other times
he was not at all in the mood to look after his family, he was filled
with simple rage about the lack of attention he was shown, and although
he could think of nothing he would have wanted, he made plans of how he
could get into the pantry where he could take all the things he was
entitled to, even if he was not hungry. M
thought about how she could please him but would hurriedly push some
food or other into his room with her foot before she rushed out to work
in the morning and at midday, and in the evening she would sweep it
away again with the broom, indifferent as to whether it had been eaten
had been left totally untouched. She still
cleared up the room in the evening, but now she could not have been any
quicker about it. Smears of dirt were left on the walls, here aM
were little balls of dust and filth. At first, Gregor went into one of
the worst of these places when his sister arrived as a reproach to her,
but he could have stayed there for weeks without his sister doing
anything about it; she could see the dirt as well as he could but she
had simply decided to leave him to it. At the same time she became
touchy in a way that was quite new for her and which everyone in the
s room was for her and her alone.
ther did once thoroughly clean his room, and needed to use
several bucketfuls of water to do it
although that much dampness also
made Gregor ill and he lay flat on the couch, bitter and immobile. But
his mother was to be punished still more for what she had done, as
hardly had his sister arrived home in the evening than she noticed the
s room and, highly aggrieved, ran back into the living
room where, despite her mothers raised and imploring hands, she broke
into convulsive tears. Her faM
ther, of course, was startled out of his
chair and the two parents looked on astonished and helpless; then they,
too, became agitated; Gregor
s father, standing to the right of his
mother, accused her of not leaving the cleaning of Gregor
sister; from her left, Gregor
s sister screamed at her that she was
never to clean Gregor
s room again; while his mother tried to draw his
father, who was beside himself with anger, into the bedroom; his
sister, quaking with tears, thumped on the tableM
 with her small fists;
and Gregor hissed in anger that no-one had even thought of closing the
door to save him the sight of this and all its noise.
s sister was exhausted from going out to work, and looking after
Gregor as she had done before was even more work for her, but even so
his mother ought certainly not to have taken her place. Gregor, on the
other hand, ought not to be neglected. Now, though, the charwoman was
here. This elderly widow, with a robust bone structure that made her
withstand the hardest of things in her long life, wasn
repelled by Gregor. Just by chance one day, rather than any real
curiosity, she opened the door to Gregor
s room and found herself face
to face with him. He was taken totally by surprise, no-one was chasing
him but he began to rush to and fro while she just stood there in
amazement with her hands crossed in front of her. From then on she
never failed to open the door slightly every evening and morning and
look briefly in on him. At first sheM
 would call to him as she did so
with words that she probably considered friendly, such as
then, you old dung-beetle!
look at the old dung-beetle there!
Gregor never responded to being spoken to in that way, but just
remained where he was without moving as if the door had never even been
opened. If only they had told this charwoman to clean up his room every
day instead of letting her disturb him for no reason whenever she felt
like it! One day, early in the morning while a heavy rainM
windowpanes, perhaps indicating that spring was coming, she began to
speak to him in that way once again. Gregor was so resentful of it that
he started to move toward her, he was slow and infirm, but it was like
a kind of attack. Instead of being afraid, the charwoman just lifted up
one of the chairs from near the door and stood there with her mouth
open, clearly intending not to close her mouth until the chair in her
hand had been slammed down into Gregor
, she asked when Gregor turned round again, and she
calmly put the chair back in the corner.
Gregor had almost entirely stopped eating. Only if he happened to find
himself next to the food that had been prepared for him he might take
some of it into his mouth to play with it, leave it there a few hours
and then, more often than not, spit it out again. At first he thought
it was distress at the state of his room that stopped him eating, but
he had soon got used to the changes made there. They M
habit of putting things into this room that they had no room for
anywhere else, and there were now many such things as one of the rooms
in the flat had been rented out to three gentlemen. These earnest
all three of them had full beards, as Gregor learned peering
through the crack in the door one day
were painfully insistent on
 being tidy. This meant not only in their own room but, since
they had taken a room in this establishment, in the entire flat and
 the kitchen. Unnecessary clutter was something they could
not tolerate, especially if it was dirty. They had moreover brought
most of their own furnishings and equipment with them. For this reason,
many things had become superfluous which, although they could not be
sold, the family did not wish to discard. All these things found their
s room. The dustbins from the kitchen found their way
in there too. The charwoman was always in a hurry, and anything she
t use for the time being M
she would just chuck in there. He,
fortunately, would usually see no more than the object and the hand
that held it. The woman most likely meant to fetch the things back out
again when she had time and the opportunity, or to throw everything out
in one go, but what actually happened was that they were left where
they landed when they had first been thrown unless Gregor made his way
through the junk and moved it somewhere else. At first he moved it
because, with no other room free where he could crawl about, M
forced to, but later on he came to enjoy it although moving about in
that way left him sad and tired to death, and he would remain immobile
for hours afterwards.
The gentlemen who rented the room would sometimes take their evening
meal at home in the living room that was used by everyone, and so the
door to this room was often kept closed in the evening. But Gregor
found it easy to give up having the door open, he had, after all, often
failed to make use of it when it was open and, without the famiM
having noticed it, lain in his room in its darkest corner. One time,
though, the charwoman left the door to the living room slightly open,
and it remained open when the gentlemen who rented the room came in in
the evening and the light was put on. They sat up at the table where,
formerly, Gregor had taken his meals with his father and mother, they
unfolded the serviettes and picked up their knives and forks. Gregor
mother immediately appeared in the doorway with a dish of meat and soon
e his sister with a dish piled high with potatoes. The
food was steaming, and filled the room with its smell. The gentlemen
bent over the dishes set in front of them as if they wanted to test the
food before eating it, and the gentleman in the middle, who seemed to
count as an authority for the other two, did indeed cut off a piece of
meat while it was still in its dish, clearly wishing to establish
whether it was sufficiently cooked or whether it should be sent back to
the kitchen. It was to his satisfactioM
sister, who had been looking on anxiously, began to breathe again and
The family themselves ate in the kitchen. Nonetheless, Gregor
came into the living room before he went into the kitchen, bowed once
with his cap in his hand and did his round of the table. The gentlemen
stood as one, and mumbled something into their beards. Then, once they
were alone, they ate in near perfect silence. It seemed remarkable to
Gregor that above all the various noises of eatiM
ng their chewing teeth
could still be heard, as if they had wanted to show Gregor that you
need teeth in order to eat and it was not possible to perform anything
with jaws that are toothless however nice they might be.
, said Gregor anxiously,
but not anything like they
eating. They do feed themselves. And here I am, dying!
Throughout all this time, Gregor could not remember having heard the
violin being played, but this evening it began to be heard from the
chen. The three gentlemen had already finished their meal, the one
in the middle had produced a newspaper, given a page to each of the
others, and now they leant back in their chairs reading them and
smoking. When the violin began playing they became attentive, stood up
and went on tip-toe over to the door of the hallway where they stood
pressed against each other. Someone must have heard them in the
s father called out:
Is the playing perhaps
unpleasant for the gentlemen? We can stopM
, said the middle gentleman,
would the young lady not like to
come in and play for us here in the room, where it is, after all, much
more cosy and comfortable?
s father as if he had been the violin player himself. The
gentlemen stepped back into the room and waited. Gregor
appeared with the music stand, his mother with the music and his sister
with the violin. She calmly prepared everything forM
playing; his parents, who had never rented a room out before and
therefore showed an exaggerated courtesy towards the three gentlemen,
did not even dare to sit on their own chairs; his father leant against
the door with his right hand pushed in between two buttons on his
uniform coat; his mother, though, was offered a seat by one of the
leaving the chair where the gentleman happened to
out of the way in a corner.
His sister began to play; father and motheM
r paid close attention, one
on each side, to the movements of her hands. Drawn in by the playing,
Gregor had dared to come forward a little and already had his head in
the living room. Before, he had taken great pride in how considerate he
was but now it hardly occurred to him that he had become so thoughtless
about the others. What
s more, there was now all the more reason to
keep himself hidden as he was covered in the dust that lay everywhere
in his room and flew up at the slightest movement; he carriedM
hairs, and remains of food about on his back and sides; he was much too
indifferent to everything now to lay on his back and wipe himself on
the carpet like he had used to do several times a day. And despite this
condition, he was not too shy to move forward a little onto the
immaculate floor of the living room.
No-one noticed him, though. The family was totally preoccupied with the
violin playing; at first, the three gentlemen had put their hands in
their pockets and come up far too close behinM
d the music stand to look
at all the notes being played, and they must have disturbed Gregor
sister, but soon, in contrast with the family, they withdrew back to
the window with their heads sunk and talking to each other at half
volume, and they stayed by the window while Gregor
them anxiously. It really now seemed very obvious that they had
expected to hear some beautiful or entertaining violin playing but had
been disappointed, that they had had enough of the whole performance
it was only now out of politeness that they allowed their peace to
be disturbed. It was especially unnerving, the way they all blew the
smoke from their cigarettes upwards from their mouth and noses. Yet
s sister was playing so beautifully. Her face was leant to one
side, following the lines of music with a careful and melancholy
expression. Gregor crawled a little further forward, keeping his head
close to the ground so that he could meet her eyes if the chance came.
Was he an animal if music couldM
 captivate him so? It seemed to him that
he was being shown the way to the unknown nourishment he had been
yearning for. He was determined to make his way forward to his sister
and tug at her skirt to show her she might come into his room with her
violin, as no-one appreciated her playing here as much as he would. He
never wanted to let her out of his room, not while he lived, anyway;
his shocking appearance should, for once, be of some use to him; he
wanted to be at every door of his room at once to hiss anM
attackers; his sister should not be forced to stay with him, though,
but stay of her own free will; she would sit beside him on the couch
with her ear bent down to him while he told her how he had always
intended to send her to the conservatory, how he would have told
everyone about it last Christmas
had Christmas really come and gone
if this misfortune hadn
t got in the way, and refuse to let
anyone dissuade him from it. On hearing all this, his sister would
break out in tears M
of emotion, and Gregor would climb up to her
shoulder and kiss her neck, which, since she had been going out to
work, she had kept free without any necklace or collar.
, shouted the middle gentleman to Gregor
pointing, without wasting any more words, with his forefinger at Gregor
as he slowly moved forward. The violin went silent, the middle of the
three gentlemen first smiled at his two friends, shaking his head, and
then looked back at Gregor. His father seemed to think it morM
important to calm the three gentlemen before driving Gregor out, even
though they were not at all upset and seemed to think Gregor was more
entertaining than the violin playing had been. He rushed up to them
with his arms spread out and attempted to drive them back into their
room at the same time as trying to block their view of Gregor with his
body. Now they did become a little annoyed, and it was not clear
whether it was his father
s behaviour that annoyed them or the dawning
realisation that they haM
d had a neighbour like Gregor in the next room
without knowing it. They asked Gregor
s father for explanations, raised
their arms like he had, tugged excitedly at their beards and moved back
towards their room only very slowly. Meanwhile Gregor
overcome the despair she had fallen into when her playing was suddenly
interrupted. She had let her hands drop and let violin and bow hang
limply for a while but continued to look at the music as if still
playing, but then she suddenly pulled herself M
instrument on her mother
s lap who still sat laboriously struggling for
breath where she was, and ran into the next room which, under pressure
from her father, the three gentlemen were more quickly moving toward.
s experienced hand, the pillows and covers on the beds
flew up and were put into order and she had already finished making the
beds and slipped out again before the three gentlemen had reached the
s father seemed so obsessed with what he was doinM
forgot all the respect he owed to his tenants. He urged them and
pressed them until, when he was already at the door of the room, the
middle of the three gentlemen shouted like thunder and stamped his foot
and thereby brought Gregor
s father to a halt.
, he said, raising his hand and glancing at Gregor
sister to gain their attention too,
that with regard to the repugnant
conditions that prevail in this flat and with this family
iefly but decisively at the floor
I give immediate notice on
my room. For the days that I have been living here I will, of course,
pay nothing at all, on the contrary I will consider whether to proceed
with some kind of action for damages from you, and believe me it would
be very easy to set out the grounds for such an action.
and looked straight ahead as if waiting for something. And indeed, his
two friends joined in with the words:
And we also give immediate
e took hold of the door handle and slammed the
s father staggered back to his seat, feeling his way with his
hands, and fell into it; it looked as if he was stretching himself out
for his usual evening nap but from the uncontrolled way his head kept
nodding it could be seen that he was not sleeping at all. Throughout
all this, Gregor had lain still where the three gentlemen had first
seen him. His disappointment at the failure of his plan, and perhaps
also because he was weak from hunger, mM
ade it impossible for him to
move. He was sure that everyone would turn on him any moment, and he
waited. He was not even startled out of this state when the violin on
s lap fell from her trembling fingers and landed loudly on
, said his sister, hitting the table with her hand as
t carry on like this. Maybe you can
t want to call this monster my brother, all I can say is:
we have to try and get rid of it. M
possible to look after it and be patient, I don
t think anyone could
accuse us of doing anything wrong.
s father to himself. His mother,
who still had not had time to catch her breath, began to cough dully,
her hand held out in front of her and a deranged expression in her
s sister rushed to his mother and put her hand on her forehead.
Her words seemed to give Gregor
s father some more definite ideas. HM
sat upright, played with his uniform cap between the plates left by the
three gentlemen after their meal, and occasionally looked down at
Gregor as he lay there immobile.
We have to try and get rid of it
s sister, now speaking
only to her father, as her mother was too occupied with coughing to
ll be the death of both of you, I can see it coming. We
t all work as hard as we have to and then come home to be tortured
broke out so heavily in tears that they flowed down the face of her
mother, and she wiped them away with mechanical hand movements.
, said her father with sympathy and obvious understanding,
His sister just shrugged her shoulders as a sign of the helplessness
and tears that had taken hold of her, displacing her earlier certainty.
If he could just understand us
, said his father almost as a question;
his sister shook her hand vigoroM
usly through her tears as a sign that
of that there was no question.
If he could just understand us
s father, closing his
eyes in acceptance of his sister
s certainty that that was quite
then perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement
with him. But as it is ...
, shouted his sister,
s the only way, Father.
ve got to get rid of the idea that that
ourselves by believing it for so long.M
 How can that be Gregor? If it
were Gregor he would have seen long ago that it
human beings to live with an animal like that and he would have gone of
his own free will. We wouldn
t have a brother any more, then, but we
could carry on with our lives and remember him with respect. As it is
this animal is persecuting us, it
s driven out our tenants, it
obviously wants to take over the whole flat and force us to sleep on
the streets. Father, look, just look
, she suddenly screamed,
 In her alarm, which was totally beyond Gregor
comprehension, his sister even abandoned his mother as she pushed
herself vigorously out of her chair as if more willing to sacrifice her
own mother than stay anywhere near Gregor. She rushed over to behind
her father, who had become excited merely because she was and stood up
half raising his hands in front of Gregor
s sister as if to protect
But Gregor had had no intention of frightening anyone, least of all his
 All he had done was begin to turn round so that he could go
back into his room, although that was in itself quite startling as his
pain-wracked condition meant that turning round required a great deal
of effort and he was using his head to help himself do it, repeatedly
raising it and striking it against the floor. He stopped and looked
round. They seemed to have realised his good intention and had only
been alarmed briefly. Now they all looked at him in unhappy silence.
His mother lay in her chair with herM
 legs stretched out and pressed
against each other, her eyes nearly closed with exhaustion; his sister
sat next to his father with her arms around his neck.
ll let me turn round
, thought Gregor and went back to
work. He could not help panting loudly with the effort and had
sometimes to stop and take a rest. No-one was making him rush any more,
everything was left up to him. As soon as he had finally finished
turning round he began to move straight ahead. He was amazed at the
istance that separated him from his room, and could not
understand how he had covered that distance in his weak state a little
while before and almost without noticing it. He concentrated on
crawling as fast as he could and hardly noticed that there was not a
word, not any cry, from his family to distract him. He did not turn his
head until he had reached the doorway. He did not turn it all the way
round as he felt his neck becoming stiff, but it was nonetheless enough
to see that nothing behind him had chanM
ged, only his sister had stood
up. With his last glance he saw that his mother had now fallen
He was hardly inside his room before the door was hurriedly shut,
bolted and locked. The sudden noise behind Gregor so startled him that
his little legs collapsed under him. It was his sister who had been in
so much of a rush. She had been standing there waiting and sprung
forward lightly, Gregor had not heard her coming at all, and as she
turned the key in the lock she said loudly to her parenM
, Gregor asked himself as he looked round in the
darkness. He soon made the discovery that he could no longer move at
all. This was no surprise to him, it seemed rather that being able to
actually move around on those spindly little legs until then was
unnatural. He also felt relatively comfortable. It is true that his
entire body was aching, but the pain seemed to be slowly getting weaker
and weaker and would finally disappear altogether. He could already
el the decayed apple in his back or the inflamed area around
it, which was entirely covered in white dust. He thought back of his
family with emotion and love. If it was possible, he felt that he must
go away even more strongly than his sister. He remained in this state
of empty and peaceful rumination until he heard the clock tower strike
three in the morning. He watched as it slowly began to get light
everywhere outside the window too. Then, without his willing it, his
head sank down completely, and his laM
st breath flowed weakly from his
When the cleaner came in early in the morning
not to keep slamming the doors but with her strength and in her hurry
she still did, so that everyone in the flat knew when she
from then on it was impossible to sleep in peace
brief look in on Gregor and at first found nothing special. She thought
he was laying there so still on purpose, playing the martyr; she
attributed all possible understanding to hiM
m. She happened to be
holding the long broom in her hand, so she tried to tickle Gregor with
it from the doorway. When she had no success with that she tried to
make a nuisance of herself and poked at him a little, and only when she
found she could shove him across the floor with no resistance at all
did she start to pay attention. She soon realised what had really
happened, opened her eyes wide, whistled to herself, but did not waste
time to yank open the bedroom doors and shout loudly into the darkness
ave a look at this, it
Mr. and Mrs. Samsa sat upright there in their marriage bed and had to
make an effort to get over the shock caused by the cleaner before they
could grasp what she was saying. But then, each from his own side, they
hurried out of bed. Mr. Samsa threw the blanket over his shoulders,
Mrs. Samsa just came out in her nightdress; and that is how they went
s room. On the way they opened the door to the livM
where Grete had been sleeping since the three gentlemen had moved in;
she was fully dressed as if she had never been asleep, and the paleness
of her face seemed to confirm this.
, asked Mrs. Samsa, looking
at the charwoman enquiringly, even though she could have checked for
herself and could have known it even without checking.
, replied the cleaner, and to prove it she gave Gregor
another shove with the broom, sending it sideways across the floor.
 Samsa made a movement as if she wanted to hold back the broom, but
did not complete it.
. He crossed himself, and the three women followed his
example. Grete, who had not taken her eyes from the corpse, said:
look how thin he was. He didn
t eat anything for so long. The food came
out again just the same as when it went in
completely dried up and flat, they had not seen it until then, but now
was not lifted up on his little legs, nor did he do anything to make
Grete, come with us in here for a little while
, said Mrs. Samsa with
a pained smile, and Grete followed her parents into the bedroom but not
without looking back at the body. The cleaner shut the door and opened
the window wide. Although it was still early in the morning the fresh
air had something of warmth mixed in with it. It was already the end of
The three gentlemen stepped out of their roomM
 and looked round in
amazement for their breakfasts; they had been forgotten about.
, the middle gentleman asked the cleaner irritably.
She just put her finger on her lips and made a quick and silent sign to
the men that they might like to come into Gregor
s room. They did so,
and stood around Gregor
s corpse with their hands in the pockets of
their well-worn coats. It was now quite light in the room.
Then the door of the bedroom opened and Mr. Samsa appeared in his
m with his wife on one arm and his daughter on the other. All of
them had been crying a little; Grete now and then pressed her face
, said Mr. Samsa, indicating the door and without
letting the women from him.
, asked the middle of
the three gentlemen somewhat disconcerted, and he smiled sweetly. The
other two held their hands behind their backs and continually rubbed
them together in gleeful anticipation of a loud quarrel which coM
only end in their favour.
I mean just what I said
Samsa, and, with his two companions, went in a straight line towards
the man. At first, he stood there still, looking at the ground as if
the contents of his head were rearranging themselves into new
, he said, and looked up at Mr.
Samsa as if he had been suddenly overcome with humility and wanted
permission again from Mr. Samsa for his decision. Mr. Samsa merely
opened his eyes wide and brieflM
y nodded to him several times. At that,
and without delay, the man actually did take long strides into the
front hallway; his two friends had stopped rubbing their hands some
time before and had been listening to what was being said. Now they
jumped off after their friend as if taken with a sudden fear that Mr.
Samsa might go into the hallway in front of them and break the
connection with their leader. Once there, all three took their hats
from the stand, took their sticks from the holder, bowed without a woM
and left the premises. Mr. Samsa and the two women followed them out
onto the landing; but they had had no reason to mistrust the men
intentions and as they leaned over the landing they saw how the three
gentlemen made slow but steady progress down the many steps. As they
turned the corner on each floor they disappeared and would reappear a
few moments later; the further down they went, the more that the Samsa
family lost interest in them; when a butcher
s boy, proud of posture
with his tray on hisM
 head, passed them on his way up and came nearer
than they were, Mr. Samsa and the women came away from the landing and
went, as if relieved, back into the flat.
They decided the best way to make use of that day was for relaxation
and to go for a walk; not only had they earned a break from work but
they were in serious need of it. So they sat at the table and wrote
three letters of excusal, Mr. Samsa to his employers, Mrs. Samsa to her
contractor and Grete to her principal. The cleaner came in while they
were writing to tell them she was going, she
d finished her work for
that morning. The three of them at first just nodded without looking up
from what they were writing, and it was only when the cleaner still did
not seem to want to leave that they looked up in irritation.
asked Mr. Samsa. The charwoman stood in the doorway with a smile on her
face as if she had some tremendous good news to report, but would only
do it if she was clearly asked to. The almost vertical little ostrich
her hat, which had been a source of irritation to Mr. Samsa
all the time she had been working for them, swayed gently in all
What is it you want then?
, asked Mrs. Samsa, whom the
cleaner had the most respect for.
, she answered, and broke into a
friendly laugh that made her unable to speak straight away,
that thing in there, you needn
t worry about how you
s all been sorted out.
 Mrs. Samsa and Grete bent down
 as if intent on continuing with what they were
writing; Mr. Samsa saw that the cleaner wanted to start describing
everything in detail but, with outstretched hand, he made it quite
clear that she was not to. So, as she was prevented from telling them
all about it, she suddenly remembered what a hurry she was in and,
clearly peeved, called out
Cheerio then, everyone
sharply and left, slamming the door terribly as she went.
Tonight she gets sacked
, said Mr. Samsa, but he received nM
from either his wife or his daughter as the charwoman seemed to have
destroyed the peace they had only just gained. They got up and went
over to the window where they remained with their arms around each
other. Mr. Samsa twisted round in his chair to look at them and sat
there watching for a while. Then he called out:
Come here, then. Let
forget about all that old stuff, shall we. Come and give me a bit of
. The two women immediately did as he said, hurrying over to
 kissed him and hugged him and then they quickly finished
After that, the three of them left the flat together, which was
something they had not done for months, and took the tram out to the
open country outside the town. They had the tram, filled with warm
sunshine, all to themselves. Leant back comfortably on their seats,
they discussed their prospects and found that on closer examination
they were not at all bad
until then they had never asked each other
about their work but all three M
had jobs which were very good and held
particularly good promise for the future. The greatest improvement for
the time being, of course, would be achieved quite easily by moving
house; what they needed now was a flat that was smaller and cheaper
than the current one which had been chosen by Gregor, one that was in a
better location and, most of all, more practical. All the time, Grete
was becoming livelier. With all the worry they had been having of late
her cheeks had become pale, but, while they were talkiM
Samsa were struck, almost simultaneously, with the thought of how their
daughter was blossoming into a well built and beautiful young lady.
They became quieter. Just from each other
s glance and almost without
knowing it they agreed that it would soon be time to find a good man
for her. And, as if in confirmation of their new dreams and good
intentions, as soon as they reached their destination Grete was the
first to get up and stretch out her young body.
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear!
Our share of night to bear,
Our share of morning,
Our blank in bliss to fill,
Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way.
Here a mist, and there a mist,
Soul, wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost, indeed,
But tens have won an all.
Angels' breathless ballot
Lingers to record thee;
Imps in eager caucus
'T is so much joy! 'T is so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I
Have ventured all upon a throw;M
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
This side the victory!
Life is but life, and death but death!
Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!
And if, indeed, I fail,
At least to know the worst is sweet.
Defeat means nothing but defeat,
No drearier can prevail!
And if I gain, -- oh, gun at sea,
Oh, bells that in the steeples be,
At first repeat it slow!
For heaven is a different thing
Conjectured, and waked sudden in,
And might o'erwhelm me so!
Glee! The great storm is over!
Forty gone down together
Into the boiling sand.
Ring, for the scant salvation!
Toll, for the bonnie souls, --
Neighbor and friend and bridegroom,
Spinning upon the shoals!
How they will tell the shipwreck
When winter shakes the door,
Till the children ask, "But the forty?
Did they come back no more?"
Then a silence suffuses the story,
And a softness the teller's eye;
And the children no further question,
And only the waves reply.
If I can stop one heart fromM
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered through the village,
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected violets
Within the fields lie low,
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago.
A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter telM
'T is but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.
The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs;
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!
Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it cautions arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "You're hurt" exclaim!
The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its InquisM
A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is
To meet an antique book,
In just the dress his century wore;
A privilege, I think,
His venerable hand to take,
And warming in our own,
A passage back, or two, to make
To times when he was young.
His quaint opinions to inspect,
His knowledge to unfold
On what concerns our mutual mind,
The literature of old;
What interested scholars most,
What competitions ran
When Plato was a certainty.
When Sappho was a living girl,
The gown that Dante deified.
Facts, centuries before,
He traverses familiar,
As one should come to town
And tell you all your dreams were true;
He lived where dreams were sown.
His presence is enchantment,
You beg him not to go;
Old volumes shake their vellum heads
And tantalize, just so.
Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur, -- you're straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.
I asked no other thing,
No other was denied.
I offered Being for it;
The mighty merchant smiled.
Brazil? He twirled a button,
Without a glance my way:
"But, madam, is there nothing else
That we can show to-day?"
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
I've known her from an ample nation
Then close the valves of her attention
Some things that fly there be, --
Birds, hours, the bumble-bee:
Some things that stay there be, --
Grief, hills, eternity:
Nor this behooveth me.
There are, that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the riddle lies!
I know some lonely houses off the rM
A robber 'd like the look of, --
And windows hanging low,
Where two could creep:
To make sure all's asleep.
Not easy to surprise!
How orderly the kitchen 'd look by night,
With just a clock, --
But they could gag the tick,
And mice won't bark;
And so the walls don't tell,
A pair of spectacles ajar just stir --
Was it the mat winked,
There's plunder, -- where?
A watch, some ancient brooch
To match the grandmamma,
Staid sleeping there.
The sun has got as far
As the third sycamore.
Screams chanticleer,
And echoes, trains away,
While the old couple, just astir,
Fancy the sunrise left the door ajar!
To fight aloud is very brave,
But gallanter, I know,
Who win, and nations do not see,
Who fall, and none observe,
Whose dying eyes no country
Regards with patriot love.
We trust, in plumed procession,
For such the angels go,
Rank after rank, with even feet
And uniforms of snow.
When night is almost done,
And sunrise grows so near
That we can touch the spaces,
It 's time to smooth the hair
And get the dimples ready,
And wonder we could care
For that old faded midnight
THE BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Read, sweet, how others strove,
Till we are stouter;
What they renounced,
Till we are less afraid;
How many times they bore
The faithful witness,
As if a kingdom cared!
That shone above the fagot;
Clear strains of hymn
The river could not drown;
And celestial women,
Passed out of record
THE MYSTERY OF PAIN.
Pain has an element of blank;
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.
I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!
Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.
When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
ies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!
Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler
Leaning against the sun!
He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!
I had no time to hate, because
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.
Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.
'T was such a little, little boat
That toddled down the bay!
'T was such a gallant, gallant sea
That beckoned it away!
'T was such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the coast;
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!
Whether my bark went downM
Whether she met with gales,
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails;
By what mystic mooring
She is held to-day, --
This is the errand of the eye
Belshazzar had a letter, --
He never had but one;
Belshazzar's correspondent
In that immortal copy
The conscience of us all
Can read without its glasses
On revelation's wall.
The brain within its groove
Runs evenly and true;
But let a splinter swerve,
To put the water back
When floods have slit the hills,
And scooped a turnpike for themselves,
And blotted out the mills!
Mine by the right of the white election!
Mine by the royal seal!
Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison
Bars cannot conceal!
Mine, here in vision and in veto!
Mine, by the grave's repeal
Titled, confirmed, -- delirious charter!
Mine, while the ages steal!
You left me, sweet, two legacies, --
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;
You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.
Alter? When the hills do.
Falter? When the sun
Question if his glory
Surfeit? When the daffodil
Even as herself, O friend!
Elysium is as far as to
The very nearest room,
If in that room a friend await
What fortitude the soul contains,
That it can so endure
The accent of a coming foot,
The opening of a door!
Doubt me, my dim companion!
Why, God would be content
With but a fraction of the love
Poured thee without a stint.
The whole of me, forever,
What more the woman can, --
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last delight I own!
It cannot be my spirit,
For that was thine before;
I ceded all of dust I knew, --
What opulence the more
Had I, a humble maiden,
Some distant heaven,
Dwell timidly with thee!
If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.
If certain, when this life was out,
 yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.
I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too --
And angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
That I did always love,
I did not love enough.
That I shall love alway,
And life hath immortality.
This, dost thou doubt, sweet?
Have you got a brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so?
And nobody knows, so still it flows,
That any brook is there;
And yet your little draught of life
Then look out for the little brook in March,
When the rivers overflow,
And the snows come hurrying from the hills,
And the bridges often go.
And later, in August it may be,
When the meadows parching lie,
Beware, lest this little brook of life
Some burning noon go dry!
As if some little Arctic flower,
Went wandering down the latitudes,
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer,
To firmaments of sun,
To strange, bright croM
And birds of foreign tongue!
I say, as if this little flower
To Eden wandered in --
What then? Why, nothing, only,
Your inference therefrom!
My river runs to thee:
Blue sea, wilt welcome me?
My river waits reply.
Oh sea, look graciously!
I'll fetch thee brooks
From spotted nooks, --
I cannot live with you,
And life is over there
The sexton keeps the key to,
Our life, his porcelain,
Discarded of the housewife,
A newer Sevres pleases,
I could not die with you,
To shut the other's gaze down, --
And I, could I stand by
Without my right of frost,
Nor could I rise with you,
Would put out Jesus',
Glow plain and foreign
Except that you, than he
y'd judge us -- how?
For you served Heaven, you know,
Because you saturated sight,
And I had no more eyes
For sordid excellence
And were you lost, I would be,
On the heavenly fame.
And I condemned to be
That self were hell to me.
So we must keep apart,
With just the door ajar
And that pale sustenance,
There came a day at summer's full
I thought that such were for the saints,
Where revelations be.
The sun, as common, went abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no soul the solstice passed
That maketh all things new.
The time was scarce profaned by speech;
The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at sacrament
The wardrobe of our Lord.
Each was to each the sealed church,
Permitted to commune this time,
Lest we too awkward show
At supper of the Lamb.
s slid fast, as hours will,
Clutched tight by greedy hands;
So faces on two decks look back,
Bound to opposing lands.
And so, when all the time had failed,
Without external sound,
Each bound the other's crucifix,
We gave no other bond.
Sufficient troth that we shall rise --
Deposed, at length, the grave --
To that new marriage, justified
Through Calvaries of Love!
I'm ceded, I've stopped being theirs;
The name they dropped upon my face
With water, in the countrM
Is finished using now,
And they can put it with my dolls,
My childhood, and the string of spools
I've finished threading too.
Baptized before without the choice,
But this time consciously, of grace
Unto supremest name,
Called to my full, the crescent dropped,
Existence's whole arc filled up
With one small diadem.
My second rank, too small the first,
Crowned, crowing on my father's breast,
A half unconscious queen;
But this time, adequate, erect,
With will to choose or to reject.
choose -- just a throne.
'T was a long parting, but the time
For interview had come;
Before the judgment-seat of God,
The last and second time
These fleshless lovers met,
A heaven of heavens, the privilege
Of one another's eyes.
No lifetime set on them,
Apparelled as the new
Unborn, except they had beheld,
Born everlasting now.
Was bridal e'er like this?
A paradise, the host,
And cherubim and seraphim
The most familiar guest.
I'm wife; I've finished that,
I'm Czar, I'm woman now:
How odd the girl's life looks
Behind this soft eclipse!
I think that earth seems so
To those in heaven now.
This being comfort, then
That other kind was pain;
I'm wife! stop there!
She rose to his requirement, dropped
The playthings of her life
To take the honorable work
Of woman and of wife.
If aught she missed in her new day
Or first prospective, or the gold
It lay unmentioned, as the sea
Develops pearl and weed,
But only to himself is known
The fathoms they abide.
Lips unused to thee,
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars -- enters,
And is lost in balms!
New feet within my garden go,
New fingers stir the sod;
A troubadour upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.
New children play upon the green,
New weary sleep below;
And still the pensive spring returns,
And still the punctual snow!
Pink, small, and punctual,
In every human soul.
A witchcraft yieldeth me.
'T were easier to die
The red upon the hill
Taketh away my will;
Take care, for God is here,
The breaking of the day
Addeth to my degree;
Artist, who drew me so,
Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower?
But I could never sell.
If you would like to borrow
Unties her yellow bonnet
Beneath the village door,
Until the bees, from clover rows
Their hock and sherry draw,
y, I will lend until just then,
But not an hour more!
The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.
Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church,
Our little sexton sings.
God preaches, -- a noted clergyman, --
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I'm going all along!
The bee is not afraid of me,
I know the butterfly;
The pretty people in the woods
Receive me cordially.
The brooks laugh louder when I come,
The breezes madder play.
Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?
Wherefore, O summer's day?
Some rainbow coming from the fair!
Some vision of the world Cashmere
Or else a peacock's purple train,
y feather, on the plain
Fritters itself away!
The dreamy butterflies bestir,
Lethargic pools resume the whir
Of last year's sundered tune.
From some old fortress on the sun
Baronial bees march, one by one,
In murmuring platoon!
The robins stand as thick to-day
As flakes of snow stood yesterday,
On fence and roof and twig.
The orchis binds her feather on
For her old lover, Don the Sun,
Without commander, countless, still,
The regiment of wood and hill
In bright detachment stM
Behold! Whose multitudes are these?
The children of whose turbaned seas,
Or what Circassian land?
The grass so little has to do, --
A sphere of simple green,
With only butterflies to brood,
And bees to entertain,
And stir all day to pretty tunes
The breezes fetch along,
And hold the sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything;
And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
And make itself so fine, --
A duchess were too common
For such a noticing.
As lowly spices gone to sleep,
And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
And dream the days away, --
The grass so little has to do,
I wish I were the hay!
A little road not made of man,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.
If town it have, beyond itself,
'T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh, -- no vehicle
Bears me along that way.
A drop fell on the apple tree,
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.
A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea.
Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be!
The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
The birds jocoser sung;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.
The breezes brought dejected lutes,
And bathed them in the glee;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fete away.
As slow her flambeaux burn away,
Which solemnizes me.
A something in a summer's noon, --
An azure depth, a wordless tune,
Transcending ecstasy.
And still within a summer's night
A something so transporting bright,
I clap my hands to see;
Then veil my too inspecting face,
Lest such a subtle, shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me.
The wizard-fingers never rest,
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes its narrow bed;
Still rears the East her amber flag,
ll the sun along the crag
Like flowers that heard the tale of dews,
But never deemed the dripping prize
Awaited their low brows;
Or bees, that thought the summer's name
Some rumor of delirium
No summer could for them;
Or Arctic creature, dimly stirred
By tropic hint, -- some travelled bird
Imported to the wood;
Or wind's bright signal to the ear,
Making that homely and severe,
Contented, known, before
The heaven unexpected came,
To lives that thought their worshipping
 too presumptuous psalm.
This is the land the sunset washes,
These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
These are the western mystery!
Night after night her purple traffic
Strews the landing with opal bales;
Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
Dip, and vanish with fairy sails.
There is a flower that bees prefer,
And butterflies desire;
To gain the purple democrat
The humming-birds aspire.
whatsoever insect pass,
Proportioned to his several dearth
Her face is rounder than the moon,
And ruddier than the gown
Of orchis in the pasture,
Or rhododendron worn.
She doth not wait for June;
Before the world is green
Her sturdy little countenance
Against the wind is seen,
Contending with the grass,
Near kinsman to herself,
For privilege of sod and sun,
Sweet litigants for life.
And when the hills are full,
And newer fashions blow,
For pang of jealousy.
Her public is the noon,
Her providence the sun,
Her progress by the bee proclaimed
In sovereign, swerveless tune.
The bravest of the host,
Surrendering the last,
Nor even of defeat aware
When cancelled by the frost.
Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry
Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.
His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!
Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn
Indicative that suns go down;
The notice to the startled grass
That darkness is about to pass.
As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
 their nightgowns on.
As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.
Angels in the early morning
May be seen the dews among,
Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying:
Do the buds to them belong?
Angels when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping, plucking, sighing, flying;
Parched the flowers they bear along.
So bashful when I spied her,
So pretty, so ashamed!
So breathless till I passed her,
So helpless when I turned
And bore her, struggling, blushing,
Her simple haunts beyond!
For whom I robbed the dingle,
For whom betrayed the dell,
Many will doubtless ask me,
But I shall never tell!
It makes no difference abroad,
The seasons fit the same,
The mornings blossom into noons,
And split their pods of flame.
Wild-flowers kindle in the woods,
The brooks brag all the day;
No blackbird bates hiM
For passing Calvary.
Auto-da-fe and judgment
Are nothing to the bee;
His separation from his rose
To him seems misery.
The mountain sat upon the plain
In his eternal chair,
His observation omnifold,
His inquest everywhere.
The seasons prayed around his knees,
Like children round a sire:
Grandfather of the days is he,
Of dawn the ancestor.
I'll tell you how the sun rose, --
The steeples swam in amethysM
The news like squirrels ran.
The hills untied their bonnets,
The bobolinks begun.
Then I said softly to myself,
"That must have been the sun!"
But how he set, I know not.
There seemed a purple stile
Which little yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while
Till when they reached the other side,
Put gently up the evening bars,
And led the flock away.
The butterfly's assumption-gown,
In chrysoprase apartments hung,
How condescending to descend,
And be of buttercups the friend
  In a New England town!
Of all the sounds despatched abroad,
There's not a charge to me
Like that old measure in the boughs,
That phraseless melody
The wind does, working like a hand
Whose fingers brush the sky,
Then quiver down, with tufts of tune
Permitted gods and me.
When winds go round and round in bands,
And thrum upon the door,
And birds take places overhead,
To bear them orchestra,
I crave him grace, of summer boughs,
If such an outcast be,
He never heard that fleshless chant
Rise solemn in the tree,
As if some caravan of sound
On deserts, in the sky,
Then knit, and passed
In seamless company.
Apparently with no surprise
To any happy flower,
The frost beheads it at its play
In accidental power.
The blond assassin passes on,
The sun proceeds unmoved
To measure off another day
For an approving God.
AS later when the summer went
Than when the cricket came,
And yet we knew that gentle clock
Meant nought but going home.
'T was sooner when the cricket went
Than when the winter came,
Yet that pathetic pendulum
Keeps esoteric time.
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, --
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarfM
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.
A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
I think the hemlock likes to stand
Upon a marge of snow;
It suits his own austerity,
And satisfies an awe
st slake in wilderness,
Or in the desert cloy, --
An instinct for the hoar, the bald,
Lapland's necessity.
The hemlock's nature thrives on cold;
The gnash of northern winds
Is sweetest nutriment to him,
His best Norwegian wines.
To satin races he is nought;
But children on the Don
Beneath his tabernacles play,
And Dnieper wrestlers run.
There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Heavenly hurt it gives us;
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.
None may teach it anything,
'T is the seal, despair, --
An imperial affliction
When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.
IV. TIME AND ETERNITY.
One dignity delays for all,
One mitred afternoon.
None can avoid this purple,
None evade this crown.
Coach it insures, and footmen,
Chamber and state and throng;
lls, also, in the village,
As we ride grand along.
What dignified attendants,
What service when we pause!
How loyally at parting
Their hundred hats they raise!
How pomp surpassing ermine,
When simple you and I
Present our meek escutcheon,
And claim the rank to die!
Delayed till she had ceased to know,
Delayed till in its vest of snow
   Her loving bosom lay.
An hour behind the fleeting breath,
Later by just an hour than death, --
   Oh, lagging yesterday!
e have guessed that it would be;
Could but a crier of the glee
   Have climbed the distant hill;
Had not the bliss so slow a pace, --
Who knows but this surrendered face
   Were undefeated still?
Oh, if there may departing be
Any forgot by victory
   In her imperial round,
Show them this meek apparelled thing,
That could not stop to be a king,
   Doubtful if it be crowned!
Departed to the judgment,
Great clouds like ushers leaning,
The flesh surrendered, cancelled,
Two worlds, like audiences, disperse
And leave the soul alone.
Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence, --
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
Grand go the years in the crescent aboM
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.
On this long storm the rainbow rose,
On this late morn the sun;
The clouds, like listless elephants,
Horizons straggled down.
The birds rose smiling in their nests,
The gales indeed were done;
Alas! how heedless were the eyes
On whom the summer shone!
The quiet nonchalance of death
No daybreak can bestir;
The slow archangel's syllables
My cocoon tightens, colors tease,
I'm feeling for the air;
A dim capacity for wings
Degrades the dress I wear.
A power of butterfly must be
The aptitude to fly,
Meadows of majesty concedes
And easy sweeps of sky.
So I must baffle at the hint
And cipher at the sign,
And make much blunder, if at last
I take the clew divine.
Exultation is the going
Of an inland soul to sea, --
Past the houses, past the headlands,
Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?
Look back on time with kindly eyes,
He doubtless did his best;
How softly sinks his trembling sun
In human nature's west!
A train went through a burial gate,
A bird broke forth and sang,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
Till all the churchyard rang;
And then adjusted his little notes,
And bowed and sang again.
ought it meet of him
To say good-by to men.
I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth, -- the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.
"TROUBLED ABOUT MANY THINGS."
How many times these low feeM
Only the soldered mouth can tell;
Try! can you stir the awful rivet?
Try! can you lift the hasps of steel?
Stroke the cool forehead, hot so often,
Lift, if you can, the listless hair;
Handle the adamantine fingers
Never a thimble more shall wear.
Buzz the dull flies on the chamber window;
Brave shines the sun through the freckled pane;
Fearless the cobweb swings from the ceiling --
Indolent housewife, in daisies lain!
I like a look of agony,
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.
The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.
That short, potential stir
That each can make but once,
That bustle so illustrious
'T is almost consequence,
Is the eclat of death.
Oh, thou unknown renown
That not a beggar would accept,
Had he the power to spurn!
I went to thank her,
Her bed a funnelled sM
With nosegays at the head and foot,
That travellers had thrown,
Who went to thank her;
'T was short to cross the sea
To look upon her like, alive,
But turning back 't was slow.
I've seen a dying eye
Run round and round a room
In search of something, as it seemed,
Then cloudier become;
And then, obscure with fog,
And then be soldered down,
Without disclosing what it be,
'T were blessed to have seen.
The clouds their backs together lM
The north begun to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like a stuff --
How good to be safe in tombs,
Where nature's temper cannot reach,
Nor vengeance ever comes!
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.
I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given.
I met one, -- forgot my school-mates,
All, for him, straightway.
God calls home the angels promptly
I missed mine. How dreary marbles,
After playing Crown!
To know just how he suffered would be dear;
To know if any human eyes were near
To whom he could intrust his wavering gaze,
Until it settled firm on Paradise.
To know if he was patient, part content,
Was dying as he thought, or different;
Was it a pleasant day to die,
 did the sunshine face his way?
What was his furthest mind, of home, or God,
Or what the distant say
At news that he ceased human nature
And wishes, had he any?
Just his sigh, accented,
Had been legible to me.
And was he confident until
Ill fluttered out in everlasting well?
And if he spoke, what name was best,
What one broke off with
Was he afraid, or tranquil?
How conscious consciousness could grow,
Till love that was, and love toM
Meet -- and the junction be Eternity?
The last night that she lived,
It was a common night,
Except the dying; this to us
Made nature different.
We noticed smallest things, --
Things overlooked before,
By this great light upon our minds
Italicized, as 't were.
That others could exist
While she must finish quite,
A jealousy for her arose
We waited while she passed;
It was a narrow time,
Too jostled were our souls to speak,
At length the noticeM
She mentioned, and forgot;
Then lightly as a reed
Bent to the water, shivered scarce,
Consented, and was dead.
And we, we placed the hair,
And drew the head erect;
And then an awful leisure was,
Our faith to regulate.
Not in this world to see his face
Sounds long, until I read the place
Where this is said to be
But just the primer to a life
Unopened, rare, upon the shelf,
Clasped yet to him and me.
And yet, my primer suits me so
I would not choose M
Than that, be sweeter wise;
Might some one else so learned be,
And leave me just my A B C,
Himself could have the skies.
The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth, --
The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
I reason, earth is short,
And anguish absolute,
I reason, we could die:
I reason that in heaven
Somehow, it will be even,
Some new equation given;
Afraid? Of whom am I afraid?
Not death; for who is he?
The porter of my father's lodge
As much abasheth me.
Of life? 'T were odd I fear a thing
That comprehendeth me
In one or more existences
Of resurrection? Is the east
Afraid to trust the morn
With her fastidious forehead?
As soon impeach my crown!
sun kept setting, setting still;
Upon the village I perceived, --
From house to house 't was noon.
The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;
No dew upon the grass,
But only on my forehead stopped,
And wandered in my face.
My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,
My fingers were awake;
Yet why so little sound myself
Unto my seeming make?
How well I knew the light before!
I could not see it now.
'T is dying, I am doing; but
I'm not afraid to know.
wrestled on the spar
Until the morning sun,
When one turned smiling to the land.
O God, the other one!
The stray ships passing spied a face
Upon the waters borne,
With eyes in death still begging raised,
And hands beseeching thrown.
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
My labor, and my leisure too,
he school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 't is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
She went as quiet as the dew
From a familiar flower.
Not like the dew did she return
At the accustomed hour!
he dropt as softly as a star
From out my summer's eve;
Less skilful than Leverrier
It's sorer to believe!
At last to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side,
The rest of life to see!
Past midnight, past the morning star!
Past sunrise! Ah! what leagues there are
Between our feet and day!
Except to heaven, she is nought;
Except for angels, lone;
Except to some wide-wandering bee,
A flower superfluous blown;
Except for winds, provincial;
Unnoticed as a single dew
That on the acre lies.
The smallest housewife in the grass,
Yet take her from the lawn,
And somebody has lost the face
That made existence home!
Death is a dialogue between
The spirit and the dust.
"Dissolve," says Death. The Spirit, "Sir,
I have another trust."
Death doubts it, argues from the ground.
The Spirit turns away,
Just laying off, for evidence,
An overcoat of clay.
It was too late for man,
Creation impotent to help,
But prayer remained our side.
How excellent the heaven,
When earth cannot be had;
How hospitable, then, the face
Of our old neighbor, God!
When I was small, a woman died.
Went up from the Potomac,
His face all victory,
To look at her; how slowly
The seasons must have turned
Till bullets clipt an angle,
And he passed quickly round!
If pride shall be in Paradise
No person testified.
But proud in apparition,
That woman and her boy
Pass back and forth before my brain,
The daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
   Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"
   "Because, sir, love is sweet!"
We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
   We nearer steal to Thee, --
Enamoured of the parting west,
flight, the amethyst,
   Night's possibility!
No rack can torture me,
My soul's at liberty
Behind this mortal bone
There knits a bolder one
You cannot prick with saw,
Nor rend with scymitar.
Two bodies therefore be;
Bind one, and one will flee.
The eagle of his nest
Except thyself may be
Captivity is consciousness,
I lost a world the other day.
You'll know it by the row of stars
Around its forehead bound.
A rich man might not notice it;
Yet to my frugal eye
Of more esteem than ducats.
Oh, find it, sir, for me!
If I shouldn't be alive
When the robins come,
Give the one in red cravat
If I couldn't thank you,
You will know I'm trying
With my granite lip!
Sleep is supposed to be,
The shutting of the eye.
Down which on either hand
The hosts of witness stand!
Morn is supposed to be,
By people of degree,
The breaking of the day.
Morning has not occurred!
That shall aurora be
One with the banner gay,
One in the red array, --
That is the break of day.
I shall know why, when time is over,
And I have ceased to wonder why;
Christ will explain each separate anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
He will tell me what Peter promised,
I shall forget the drop of anguish
That scalds me now, that scalds me now.
I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod;
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!
Angels, twice descending,
Reimbursed my store.
Burglar, banker, father,
I am poor once more!
I'm nobody!  Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there 's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They 'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebodM
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
I bring an unaccustomed wine
To lips long parching, next to mine,
And summon them to drink.
Crackling with fever, they essay;
I turn my brimming eyes away,
And come next hour to look.
The hands still hug the tardy glass;
The lips I would have cooled, alas!
Are so superfluous cold,
I would as soon attempt to warm
The bosoms where the frost has lain
Ages beneath the mould.
Some other thirsty therM
To whom this would have pointed me
Had it remained to speak.
And so I always bear the cup
If, haply, mine may be the drop
Some pilgrim thirst to slake, --
If, haply, any say to me,
"Unto the little, unto me,"
When I at last awake.
The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
      The heaven we chase
      Like the June bee
      Before the school-boy
      Invites the race;
      Stoops to an easy clover --
Dips -- evades -- teases -- deploys;
      Then to the royal cloudsM
      Lifts his light pinnace
      Heedless of the boy
Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.
      Homesick for steadfast honey,
      Ah! the bee flies not
That brews that rare variety.
Till qualified for pearl,
Then drop the paste,
And deem ourself a fool.
The shapes, though, were similar,
I found the phrase to every thought
I ever had, but one;
And that defies me, -- as a hand
To races nurtured in the dark; --
How would your own begin?
Can blaze be done in cochineal,
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I 've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
Dare you see a soul at the white heat?
   Then crouch within the door.
Red is the fire's common tint;
   But when the vivid ore
Has sated flame's conditions,
   Its quivering substance plays
Without a color but the light
   Of unanointed blaze.
Least village boasts its blacksmith,
   Whose anvil's even din
Stands symbol for the finer forge
   That soundless tugs within,
Refining these impatient ores
   With hammer and with blaze,
   Repudiate the forge.
Who never lost, are unprepared
Who never thirsted, flagons
And cooling tamarind.
Who never climbed the weary league --
Can such a foot explore
The purple territories
How many legions overcome?
The emperor will say.
How many colors taken
How many bullets bearest?
The royal scar hast thou?
Angels, write "Promoted"
On this soldier's brow!
Whole pools of it, --
But the least push of joy
And I tip -- drunken.
Let no pebble smile,
'T was the new liquor, --
Stranded, through discipline,
Till weights will hang.
Give balm to giants,
And they 'll wilt, like men.
I never hear the word "escape"
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
I never hear of prisons M
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars, --
For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
For each beloved hour
Sharp pittances of years,
Bitter contested farthings
And coffers heaped with tears.
Through the straight pass of suffering
The martyrs even trod,
Their feet upon temptation,
Their faces upon God.
A stately, shriven company;
vulsion playing round,
Harmless as streaks of meteor
Upon a planet's bound.
Their faith the everlasting troth;
Their expectation fair;
The needle to the north degree
Wades so, through polar air.
I meant to have but modest needs,
Such as content, and heaven;
Within my income these could lie,
And life and I keep even.
But since the last included both,
It would suffice my prayer
But just for one to stipulate,
And grace would grant the pair.
And so, upon this wise I M
Great Spirit, give to me
A heaven not so large as yours,
But large enough for me.
A smile suffused Jehovah's face;
The cherubim withdrew;
Grave saints stole out to look at me,
And showed their dimples, too.
I left the place with all my might, --
My prayer away I threw;
The quiet ages picked it up,
And Judgment twinkled, too,
That one so honest be extant
As take the tale for true
That "Whatsoever you shall ask,
Itself be given you."
But I, grown shrewder, scan the skies
As children, swindled for the first,
All swindlers be, infer.
The thought beneath so slight a film
Is more distinctly seen, --
As laces just reveal the surge,
Or mists the Apennine.
The soul unto itself
Is an imperial friend, --
Or the most agonizing spy
An enemy could send.
Secure against its own,
No treason it can fear;
Itself its sovereign, of itself
The soul should stand in awe.
Surgeons must be very careful
Underneath their fine incisions
Stirs the culprit, -- Life!
I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step
Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare
To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill
And neigh like Boanerges;
Stop -- docile and omnipotent --
At its own stable door.
The show is not the show,
Delight becomes pictorial
When viewed through pain, --
More fair, because impossible
The mountain at a given distance
Approached, the amber flits a little, --
And that 's the skies!
A thought went up my mind to-day
But did not finish, -- some way back,
I could not fix the year,
Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.
But somewhere in my soul, I know
I 've met the thing before;
It just reminded me -- 't was all --
And came my way no more.
Is Heaven a physician?
They say that He can heal,
But medicine posthumous
Is Heaven an exchequer?
   They speak of what we owe;
But that negotiation
I 'm not a party to.
Though I get home how late, how late!
So I get home, 't will compensate.
Better will be the ecstasy
That they have done expecting me,
When, night descending, dumb and dark,
They hear my unexpected knock.
Transporting must the moment be,
Brewed from decades of agony!
To think just how the fire will burn,
Just how long-cheated eyes will turn
To wonder what myself will say,
And what itself will say to me,
Beguiles the centuries of way!
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend
Nor constellation burn,
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown.
The angels, happening that way,
This dusty heart espied;
Tenderly took it up from toil
And carried it to God.
There, -- sandals for the barefoot;
There, -- gathered from the gales,
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the wandering sails.
I should have been too glad, I see,
Too lifted for the scant degree
   Of life's penurious round;
My little circuit would have shamed
This new circumference, have blamed
   The homelier time behind.
I should have been too saved, I see,
Too rescued; fear too dim to me
   That I could spell the prayer
I knew so perfect yesterday, --
That scalding one, "Sabachthani,"
   Recited fluent here.
Earth would have been too much, I see,
And heaven not enough for me;
   I should have had the joy
e fear to justify, --
The palm without the Calvary;
   So, Saviour, crucify.
Defeat whets victory, they say;
The reefs in old Gethsemane
   Endear the shore beyond.
'T is beggars banquets best define;
'T is thirsting vitalizes wine, --
   Faith faints to understand.
It tossed and tossed, --
A little brig I knew, --
And groped delirious, for morn.
It slipped and slipped,
As one that drunken stepped;
Its white foot tripped,
 dropped from sight.
Ah, brig, good-night
The ocean's heart too smooth, too blue,
And is held low to freezing lips
How sweet it would have tasted,
Was God so economical?
His table 's spread too high for us
Unless we dine on tip-toe.
Crumbs fit such little mouths,
Cherries suit robins;
The eagle's golden breakfast
God keeps his oath to sparrows,
God gave a loaf to every bird,
But just a crumb to me;
I dare not eat it, though I starve, --
To own it, touch it, prove the feat
That made the pellet mine, --
Too happy in my sparrow chance
For ampler coveting.
It might be famine all around,
I could not miss an ear,
Such plenty smiles upon my board,
My garner shows so fair.
I wonder how the rich may feel, --
An Indiaman -- an Earl?
I deem that I with but a crumb
Is every one I meet.
If it contain a kernel?
Presents upon a tree,
But meat within is requisite,
To squirrels and to me.
MY COUNTRY'S WARDROBE.
My country need not change her gown,
Her triple suit as sweet
As when 't was cut at Lexington,
And first pronounced "a fit."
Great Britain disapproves "the stars;"
Disparagement discreet, --
There 's something in their attitude
Faith is a fine invention
For gentlemen who see;
But microscopes are prudent
Except the heaven had come so near,
So seemed to choose my door,
The distance would not haunt me so;
I had not hoped before.
But just to hear the grace depart
I never thought to see,
Afflicts me with a double loss;
'T is lost, and lost to me.
Portraits are to daily faces
To a fine, pedantic sunshine
I took my power in my hand.
And went against the world;
'T was not so much as David had,
But I was twice as bold.
I aimed my pebble, but myself
Was all the one that fell.
Was it Goliath was too large,
Or only I too small?
A shady friend for torrid days
Than one of higher temperature
For frigid hour of mind.
The vane a little to the east
Scares muslin souls away;
If broadcloth breasts are firmer
Than those of organdy,
o blame? The weaver?
Ah! the bewildering thread!
The tapestries of paradise
So notelessly are made!
Each life converges to some centre
Exists in every human nature
Admitted scarcely to itself, it may be,
For credibility's temerity
Adored with caution, as a brittle heaven,
Were hopeless as the rainbow's raiment
Yet persevered toward, surer for the distance;
Unto the saints' slow diligenceM
Ungained, it may be, by a life's low venture,
Eternity enables the endeavoring
Before I got my eye put out,
I liked as well to see
As other creatures that have eyes,
And know no other way.
But were it told to me, to-day,
That I might have the sky
For mine, I tell you that my heart
Would split, for size of me.
The meadows mine, the mountains mine, --
All forests, stintless stars,
As much of noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes.
The motions of the dipping birds,
The lightning's jointed road,
For mine to look at when I liked, --
The news would strike me dead!
So safer, guess, with just my soul
Upon the window-pane
Where other creatures put their eyes,
Incautious of the sun.
Talk with prudence to a beggar
Of 'Potosi' and the mines!
Reverently to the hungry
Of your viands and your wines!
Cautious, hint to any captive
You have passed enfranchised feet!
Anecdotes of air in dungeons
Have sometimes proved M
He preached upon "breadth" till it argued him narrow, --
The broad are too broad to define;
And of "truth" until it proclaimed him a liar, --
The truth never flaunted a sign.
Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presence
As gold the pyrites would shun.
What confusion would cover the innocent Jesus
To meet so enabled a man!
Good night! which put the candle out?
A jealous zephyr, not a doubt.
   Ah! friend, you little knew
 at that celestial wick
The angels labored diligent;
   Extinguished, now, for you!
It might have been the lighthouse spark
Some sailor, rowing in the dark,
   Had importuned to see!
It might have been the waning lamp
That lit the drummer from the camp
   To purer reveille!
When I hoped I feared,
Since I hoped I dared;
Spectre cannot harm,
Serpent cannot charm;
Who hath suffered him.
And then it knocks at will.
That is the manufacturing spot,
And will at home and well.
It then goes out an act,
Or is entombed so still
That only to the ear of God
Its doom is audible.
Mine enemy is growing old, --
I have at last revenge.
The palate of the hate departs;
If any would avenge, --
Let him be quick, the viand flits,
Anger as soon as fed is dead;
'T is starving makes it fat.
Her companies astir, --
A presence of departed acts
At window and at door.
It's past set down before the soul,
And lighted with a match,
Perusal to facilitate
Of its condensed despatch.
Remorse is cureless, -- the disease
Not even God can heal;
For 't is his institution, --
The complement of hell.
The body grows outside, --
The more convenient way, --
That if the spirit like to hide,
Its temple stands alway
Ajar, secure, inviting;
The soul that asked its shelter
Undue significance a starving man attaches
Far off; he sighs, and therefore hopeless,
Partaken, it relieves indeed, but proves us
In the receipt. It was the distance
Heart not so heavy as mine,
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune, --
A careless snatch, a ballad,
A ditty of the street;
Yet to my irritated ear
It was as if a bobolink,
Sauntering this way,
Carolled and mused and carolled,
Then bubbled slow away.
It was as if a chirping brook
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why.
To-morrow, night will come again,
Weary, perhaps, and sore.
Ah, bugle, by my window,
I pray you stroll once more!
I many times thought peace had come,
When peace was far away;
As wrecked men deem they sight the land
At centre of the sea,
slacker, but to prove,
How many the fictitious shores
Before the harbor lie.
Unto my books so good to turn
Far ends of tired days;
It half endears the abstinence,
And pain is missed in praise.
As flavors cheer retarded guests
With banquetings to be,
So spices stimulate the time
Till my small library.
It may be wilderness without,
Far feet of failing men,
But holiday excludes the night,
And it is bells within.
I thank these kinsmen of the shelf;
Enamour in prospective,
And satisfy, obtained.
This merit hath the worst, --
When Fate hath taunted last
And thrown her furthest stone,
The maimed may pause and breathe,
And glance securely round.
The deer invites no longer
Than it eludes the hound.
I had been hungry all the years;
My noon had come, to dine;
I, trembling, drew the table near,
And touched the curious wine.
'T was this on tables I had seen,
rning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.
I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's dining-room.
The plenty hurt me, 't was so new, --
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.
Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.
      By climbing slow,
By catching at the tM
Between the bliss and me.
      It hung so high,
      As well the sky
      Attempt by strategy.
I said I gained it, --
Look, how I clutch it,
Unfitted by an instant's grace
For the contented beggar's face
To learn the transport by the pain,
As blind men learn the sun;
To die of thirst, suspecting
That brooks in meadows run;
To stay the homesick, homesick feet
Upon a foreign shoreM
Haunted by native lands, the while,
And blue, beloved air --
This is the sovereign anguish,
This, the signal woe!
These are the patient laureates
Whose voices, trained below,
Ascend in ceaseless carol,
To us, the duller scholars
Of the mysterious bard!
I years had been from home,
And now, before the door,
I dared not open, lest a face
Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business, -- just a life I left,
as such still dwelling there?
I fumbled at my nerve,
I scanned the windows near;
The silence like an ocean rolled,
And broke against my ear.
I laughed a wooden laugh
That I could fear a door,
Who danger and the dead had faced,
But never quaked before.
I fitted to the latch
My hand, with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.
I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house.
Prayer is the little implement
Through which men reach
Where presence is denied them.
They fling their speech
By means of it in God's ear;
This sums the apparatus
Comprised in prayer.
I know that he exists
Somewhere, in silence.
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.
'T is an instant's play,
'T is a fond ambush,
Earn her own surprise!
Prove piercing earnest,
Should the glee glaze
Have crawled too far?
Musicians wrestle everywhere:
All day, among the crowded air,
  I hear the silver strife;
And -- waking long before the dawn --
Such transport breaks upon the town
  I think it that "new life!"
It is not bird, it has no nest;
Nor band, in brass and scarlet dressed,
  Nor tambourine, nor man;
It is not hymn from pulpit read, --
The morning stars the treble led
Some say it is the spheres at play!
Some say that bright majority
  Of vanished dames and men!
Some think it service in the place
Where we, with late, celestial face,
  Please God, shall ascertain!
Just lost when I was saved!
Just felt the world go by!
Just girt me for the onset with eternity,
When breath blew back,
And on the other side
I heard recede the disappointed tide!
Therefore, as one returned, I feel,
Odd secrets of the line to tell!
Some sailor, skirting foreign shores,
Some pale reporter from the awful doors
Next time, the things to see
Unscrutinized by eye.
Next time, to tarry,
While the ages steal, --
Slow tramp the centuries,
And the cycles wheel.
Of all the souls that stand create
When sense from spirit files away,
And subterfuge is done;
When that which is and that which was
Apart, intrinsic, stand,
And this brief tragedy of flesh
Is shifted like a sand;
When figures show their royal front
And mists are carved away, --
Behold the atom I preferred
To all the lists of clay!
I have no life but this,
Nor any death, but lest
Dispelled from there;
Nor tie to earths to come,
Except through this extent,
Your riches taught me poverty.
Myself a millionnaire
In little wealths, -- as girls could boast, --
You drifted your dominions
And I esteemed all poverty,
For life's estate with you.
Of mines I little know, myself,
But just the names of gems, --
The colors of the commonest;
And scarce of diadems
So much that, did I meet the queen,
Her glory I should know:
But this must be a different wealth,
To miss it beggars so.
I 'm sure 't is India all day
To those who look on you
Without a stint, without a blame, --
Might I but be the Jew!
I 'm sure it is Golconda,M
Beyond my power to deem, --
To have a smile for mine each day,
How better than a gem!
At least, it solaces to know
That there exists a gold,
Although I prove it just in time
Its distance to behold!
It 's far, far treasure to surmise,
And estimate the pearl
That slipped my simple fingers through
While just a girl at school!
I gave myself to him,
And took himself for pay.
The solemn contract of a life
Was ratified this way.
The wealth might disappoint,
Than this great purchaser suspect,
The daily own of Love
Depreciate the vision;
But, till the merchant buy,
Still fable, in the isles of spice,
The subtle cargoes lie.
At least, 't is mutual risk, --
Some found it mutual gain;
Sweet debt of Life, -- each night to owe,
Insolvent, every noon.
"GOING to him! Happy letter! Tell him --
Tell him the page I didn't write;
Tell him I only said the syntax,
And left the verb and the pronoun out.
w the fingers hurried,
Then how they waded, slow, slow, slow;
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages,
So you could see what moved them so.
"Tell him it wasn't a practised writer,
You guessed, from the way the sentence toiled;
You could hear the bodice tug, behind you,
As if it held but the might of a child;
You almost pitied it, you, it worked so.
Tell him -- No, you may quibble there,
For it would split his heart to know it,
And then you and I were silenter.
"Tell him night finished before M
And the old clock kept neighing 'day!'
And you got sleepy and begged to be ended --
What could it hinder so, to say?
Tell him just how she sealed you, cautious,
But if he ask where you are hid
Until to-morrow, -- happy letter!
Gesture, coquette, and shake your head!"
The way I read a letter 's this:
'T is first I lock the door,
And push it with my fingers next,
For transport it be sure.
And then I go the furthest off
To counteract a knock;
Then draw my little letter forM
And softly pick its lock.
Then, glancing narrow at the wall,
And narrow at the floor,
For firm conviction of a mouse
Not exorcised before,
Peruse how infinite I am
To -- no one that you know!
And sigh for lack of heaven, -- but not
The heaven the creeds bestow.
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Wild nights should be
To a heart in port, --
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
The night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single star,
That often as a cloud it met
Blew out itself for fear.
The wind pursued the little bush,
And drove away the leaves
November left; then clambered up
And fretted in the eaves.
No squirrel went abroad;
A dog's belated feet
Like intermittent plush were heard
Adown the empty street.
To feel if blinds be fast,
And closer to the fire
Her little rocking-chair to draw,
And shiver for the pooM
The housewife's gentle task.
"How pleasanter," said she
Unto the sofa opposite,
"The sleet than May -- no thee!"
Did the harebell loose her girdle
Would the bee the harebell hallow
Did the paradise, persuaded,
Yield her moat of pearl,
Would the Eden be an Eden,
Or the earl an earl?
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld, --
The lady dare not lift her veil
For fear it be dispelled.
But peers beyond her meM
And wishes, and denies, --
Lest interview annul a want
That image satisfies.
The rose did caper on her cheek,
Her bodice rose and fell,
Her pretty speech, like drunken men,
Did stagger pitiful.
Her fingers fumbled at her work, --
Her needle would not go;
What ailed so smart a little maid
It puzzled me to know,
Till opposite I spied a cheek
That bore another rose;
Just opposite, another speech
That like the drunkard goes;
A vest that, like the bodice, danced
To the immortal tune, --
Till those two troubled little clocks
Ticked softly into one.
In lands I never saw, they say,
Immortal Alps look down,
Whose bonnets touch the firmament,
Whose sandals touch the town, --
Meek at whose everlasting feet
A myriad daisies play.
Which, sir, are you, and which am I,
The moon is distant from the sea,
And yet with amber hands
She leads him, docile as a boy,
Along appointed sands.
He never misses a degree;
Obedient to her eye,
He comes just so far toward the town,
Just so far goes away.
Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand,
And mine the distant sea, --
Obedient to the least command
Thine eyes impose on me.
He put the belt around my life, --
I heard the buckle snap,
And turned away, imperial,
My lifetime folding up
Deliberate, as a duke would do
A kingdom's title-deed, --
Henceforth a dedicated sort,
A member of the cloud.
Yet not too far to come at call,
And do the little toils
t make the circuit of the rest,
And deal occasional smiles
To lives that stoop to notice mine
And kindly ask it in, --
Whose invitation, knew you not
For whom I must decline?
I held a jewel in my fingers
The day was warm, and winds were prosy;
I said: "'T will keep."
I woke and chid my honest fingers, --
And now an amethyst remembrance
What if I say I shall not wait?
What if I burst the fleshly M
And pass, escaped, to thee?
What if I file this mortal off,
See where it hurt me, -- that 's enough, --
And wade in liberty?
They cannot take us any more, --
Dungeons may call, and guns implore;
Unmeaning now, to me,
As laughter was an hour ago,
Or laces, or a travelling show,
Or who died yesterday!
Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest, --
In forest and the hill
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.
How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon, --
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down
Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.
When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky
With infinite affection
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.
Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like water-lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?
Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
Oh, some wise man from the skies!
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies!
At half-past three a single bird
nded but a single term
At half-past four, experiment
Had subjugated test,
And lo! her silver principle
Supplanted all the rest.
At half-past seven, element
Nor implement was seen,
And place was where the presence was,
Circumference between.
The day came slow, till five o'clock,
Then sprang before the hills
Like hindered rubies, or the light
A sudden musket spills.
The purple could not keep the east,
The sunrise shook from fold,
s of topaz, packed a night,
The lady just unrolled.
The happy winds their timbrels took;
The birds, in docile rows,
Arranged themselves around their prince
(The wind is prince of those).
The orchard sparkled like a Jew, --
How mighty 't was, to stay
A guest in this stupendous place,
The parlor of the day!
The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.
She felt herself supremer, --
A raised, ethereal thing;
Henceforth for her what holiday!
Meanwhile, her wheeling king
Trailed slow along the orchards
His haughty, spangled hems,
Leaving a new necessity, --
The want of diadems!
The morning fluttered, staggered,
Felt feebly for her crown, --
Her unanointed forehead
Henceforth her only one.
The robin is the one
That interrupts the morn
With hurried, few, express reports
When March is scarcely on.
The robin is the one
That overflows the noon
With her cherubic quantity,
The robin is the one
That speechless from her nest
Submits that home and certainty
And sanctity are best.
THE BUTTERFLY'S DAY.
From cocoon forth a butterfly
As lady from her door
Emerged -- a summer afternoon --
Repairing everywhere,
Without design, that I could trace,
Except to stray abroad
On miscellaneous enterprise
The clovers understood.
Her pretty parasol was seen
Contracting in a field
Where men made hay, then struggliM
With an opposing cloud,
Where parties, phantom as herself,
To Nowhere seemed to go
In purposeless circumference,
As 't were a tropic show.
And notwithstanding bee that worked,
And flower that zealous blew,
This audience of idleness
Disdained them, from the sky,
Till sundown crept, a steady tide,
And men that made the hay,
And afternoon, and butterfly,
Extinguished in its sea.
Before you thought of spring,
Except as a surmise,
You see, God bless his sM
A fellow in the skies
Of independent hues,
A little weather-worn,
Inspiriting habiliments
Of indigo and brown.
With specimens of song,
As if for you to choose,
Discretion in the interval,
With gay delays he goes
To some superior tree
Without a single leaf,
And shouts for joy to nobody
But his seraphic self!
An altered look about the hills;
A Tyrian light the village fills;
A wider sunrise in the dawn;
A deeper twilight on the lawn;
A print of a vermilion fooM
A purple finger on the slope;
A flippant fly upon the pane;
A spider at his trade again;
An added strut in chanticleer;
A flower expected everywhere;
An axe shrill singing in the woods;
Fern-odors on untravelled roads, --
All this, and more I cannot tell,
A furtive look you know as well,
And Nicodemus' mystery
Receives its annual reply.
THE SLEEPING FLOWERS.
"Whose are the little beds," I asked,
"Which in the valleys lie?"
Some shook their heads, and others smiled,
"Perhaps they did not hear," I said;
"I will inquire again.
Whose are the beds, the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?"
"'T is daisy in the shortest;
A little farther on,
Nearest the door to wake the first,
"'T is iris, sir, and aster,
Batschia in the blanket red,
And chubby daffodil."
Meanwhile at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied,
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.
"Hush! Epigea wakens! --
The crocus stirs her lids,
Rhodora's cheek is crimson, --
She's dreaming of the woods."
Then, turning from them, reverent,
"Their bed-time 't is," she said;
"The bumble-bees will wake them
When April woods are red."
Pigmy seraphs gone astray,
Velvet people from Vevay,
Belles from some lost summer day,
Bees' exclusive coterie.
Paris could not lay the fold
Belted down with emerald;
Venice could not show a cheek
Of a tint so lustrous meek.
Never such an ambuscade
As of brier and leaf displayed
 my little damask maid.
I had rather wear her grace
Than an earl's distinguished face;
I had rather dwell like her
Than be Duke of Exeter
Royalty enough for me
To subdue the bumble-bee!
THE ORIOLE'S SECRET.
To hear an oriole sing
May be a common thing,
It is not of the bird
Who sings the same, unheard,
The fashion of the ear
Attireth that it hear
So whether it be rune,
Or whether it be none,
The sceptic showeth me;
One of the ones that Midas touched,
Who failed to touch us all,
Was that confiding prodigal,
The blissful oriole.
So drunk, he disavows it
With badinage divine;
So dazzling, we mistake him
For an alighting mine.
A pleader, a dissembler,
An epicure, a thief, --
Betimes an oratorio,
An ecstasy in chief;
The Jesuit of orchards,
He cheats as he enchants
For his decamping wants.
The meteor of birds,
Departing like a pageant
Of ballads and of bards.
I never thought that Jason sought
For any golden fleece;
But then I am a rural man,
With thoughts that make for peace.
But if there were a Jason,
Behold his lost emolument
Upon the apple-tree.
I dreaded that first robin so,
But he is mastered now,
And I 'm accustomed to him grown, --
He hurts a little, though.
I thought if I could only live
Not all pianos in the woods
Had power to mangle me.
I dared not meet the daffodils,
For fear their yellow gown
Would pierce me with a fashion
So foreign to my own.
I wished the grass would hurry,
So when 't was time to see,
He 'd be too tall, the tallest one
Could stretch to look at me.
I could not bear the bees should come,
I wished they 'd stay away
In those dim countries where they go:
What word had they for me?
They 're here, though; not a creature failed,
In gentle deference to me,
The Queen of Calvary.
Each one salutes me as he goes,
And I my childish plumes
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
Of their unthinking drums.
A route of evanescence
With a revolving wheel;
A resonance of emerald,
A rush of cochineal;
And every blossom on the bush
Adjusts its tumbled head, --
The mail from Tunis, probably,
An easy morning's ride.
The skies can't keep their secret!
The hills just tell the orchards --
And they the daffodils!
A bird, by chance, that goes that way
Soft overheard the whole.
If I should bribe the little bird,
Who knows but she would tell?
I think I won't, however,
It's finer not to know;
If summer were an axiom,
What sorcery had snow?
So keep your secret, Father!
I would not, if I could,
Know what the sapphire fellows do,
In your new-fashioned world!
Who robbed the woods,
Brought out their burrs and mosses
His fantasy to please.
He scanned their trinkets, curious,
He grasped, he bore away.
What will the solemn hemlock,
What will the fir-tree say?
Two butterflies went out at noon
And waltzed above a stream,
Then stepped straight through the firmament
And rested on a beam;
And then together bore away
Upon a shining sea, --
Though never yet, in any port,
Their coming mentioned be.
If spoken by the distant bird,
By frigate or by merchantman,
Report was not to me.
I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me,
And frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands,
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground, upon the sands.
But no man moved me till the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too,
And made as he would eat me up
Upon a dandelion's sleeve --
And then I started too.
And he -- he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, -- then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.
Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.
Arcturus is his other name, --
I'd rather call him star!
It's so unkind of science
To go and interfere!
I pull a flower from the woods, --
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath,
Whereas I took the butterfly
Aforetime in my hat,
He sits erect in cabinets,
The clover-bells forgot.
What once was heaven, is zenith now.
Where I proposed to go
When time's brief masquerade was done,
Is mapped, and charted too!
What if the poles should frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I 'm ready for the worst,
Whatever prank betides!
Perhaps the kingdom of Heaven 's changed!
I hope the children there
Won't be new-fashioned when I come,
And laugh at me, and stare!
I hope the father in the skies
Will lift his little girl, --
Old-fashioned, naughty, everything, --
Over the stile of pearl!
An awful tempest mashed the air,
The clouds were gaunt and few;
A black, as of a spectre's cloak,
Hid heaven and earth from view.
The creatures chuckled on the roofs
And whistled in the air,
And shook their fists and gnashed their teeth.
And swung their frenzied hair.
The morning lit, the birds arose;
The monster's faded eyes
And peace was Paradise!
An everywhere of silver,
To keep it from effacing
The track called land.
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad, --
They looked like frightened M
He stirred his velvet head
Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home
Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.
A narrow fellow in the grass
You may have met him, -- did you not,
His notice sudden is.
The grass divides as with a comb,
A spotted shaft is seen;
And then it closes at yourM
And opens further on.
He likes a boggy acre,
A floor too cool for corn.
Yet when a child, and barefoot,
I more than once, at morn,
Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash
Unbraiding in the sun, --
When, stooping to secure it,
It wrinkled, and was gone.
Several of nature's people
I know, and they know me;
I feel for them a transport
But never met this fellow,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone.
m is the elf of plants,
At evening it is not;
At morning in a truffled hut
It stops upon a spot
As if it tarried always;
And yet its whole career
Is shorter than a snake's delay,
And fleeter than a tare.
'T is vegetation's juggler,
Doth like a bubble antedate,
And like a bubble hie.
I feel as if the grass were pleased
To have it intermit;
The surreptitious scion
Of summer's circumspect.
Had nature any outcast face,
Could she a son contemn,
Had nature an Iscariot,
ushroom, -- it is him.
There came a wind like a bugle;
It quivered through the grass,
And a green chill upon the heat
We barred the windows and the doors
As from an emerald ghost;
The doom's electric moccason
That very instant passed.
On a strange mob of panting trees,
And fences fled away,
And rivers where the houses ran
The living looked that day.
The bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled.
d yet abide the world!
A spider sewed at night
Upon an arc of white.
If ruff it was of dame
Himself, himself inform.
I know a place where summer strives
With such a practised frost,
She each year leads her daisies back,
Recording briefly, "Lost."
But when the south wind stirs the pools
And struggles in the lanes,
Her heart misgives her for her vow,
Into the lap of adamant,
And spices, and the dew,
That stiffens quietly to quartz,
Upon her amber shoe.
The one that could repeat the summer day
Were greater than itself, though he
Minutest of mankind might be.
And who could reproduce the sun,
At period of going down --
The lingering and the stain, I mean --
When Orient has been outgrown,
And Occident becomes unknown,
The wind tapped like a tired man,
I boldly answered; entered then
A rapid, footless guest,
To offer whom a chair
Were as impossible as hand
No bone had he to bind him,
His speech was like the push
Of numerous humming-birds at once
From a superior bush.
His countenance a billow,
His fingers, if he pass,
Let go a music, as of tunes
Blown tremulous in glass.
He visited, still flitting;
Then, like a timid man,
Again he tapped -- 't was flurriedly --
And I became alone.M
Nature rarer uses yellow
   Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets, --
   Prodigal of blue,
Spending scarlet like a woman,
   Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
   Like a lover's words.
The leaves, like women, interchange
  Sagacious confidence;
Somewhat of nods, and somewhat of
  Portentous inference,
The parties in both cases
  Enjoining secrecy, --
How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn't care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.
It sounded as if the streets were running,
And then the streets stood still.
Eclipse was all we could see at the window,
And awe was all we could feel.
By and by the boldest stole out of hisM
To see if time was there.
Nature was in her beryl apron,
The rat is the concisest tenant.
Repudiates the obligation,
To sound or circumvent,
Frequently the woods are pink,
Frequently are brown;
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.
Oft a head is crested
Where it used to be.
And the earth, they tell me,
On its axis turned, --
By but twelve performed!
The wind begun to rock the grass
With threatening tunes and low, --
He flung a menace at the earth,
A menace at the sky.
The leaves unhooked themselves from trees
And started all abroad;
The dust did scoop itself like hands
And throw away the road.
The wagons quickened on the streets,
The lightning showed a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.
The birds put up the bars to nests,
The cattle fled to barns;
There came one drop of giant rain,
And then, as if the hands
That held the dams had parted hold,
The waters wrecked the sky,
But overlooked my father's house,
Just quartering a tree.
South winds jostle them,
Drink, and are gone.
On their passage Cashmere;
I, softly plucking,M
Where ships of purple gently toss
On seas of daffodil,
Fantastic sailors mingle,
And then -- the wharf is still.
She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh, housewife in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!
You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you 've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!
And still she plies her spotted brooms,
And still the aprons flyM
Till brooms fade softly into stars --
And then I come away.
Like mighty footlights burned the red
At bases of the trees, --
The far theatricals of day
Exhibiting to these.
'T was universe that did applaud
While, chiefest of the crowd,
Enabled by his royal dress,
Myself distinguished God.
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up,
   And say how many dew;
Tell me how far the morning leaps,
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
 Who spun the breadths of blue!
Write me how many notes there be
In the new robin's ecstasy
   Among astonished boughs;
How many trips the tortoise makes,
How many cups the bee partakes, --
   The debauchee of dews!
Also, who laid the rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
   By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite,
Who counts the wampum of the night,
   To see that none is due?
Who built this little Alban house
And shut the windows down so close
Who 'll let me out some gala day,
With implements to fly away,
   Passing pomposity?
Blazing in gold and quenching in purple,
Leaping like leopards to the sky,
Then at the feet of the old horizon
Laying her spotted face, to die;
Stooping as low as the otter's window,
Touching the roof and tinting the barn,
Kissing her bonnet to the meadow, --
And the juggler of day is gone!
Farther in summer than the birds,
A minor nation celebrates
Its unobtrusive mass.
No ordinance is seen,
So gradual the grace,
A pensive custom it becomes,
Enlarging loneliness.
Antiquest felt at noon
When August, burning low,
Calls forth this spectral canticle,
Remit as yet no grace,
No furrow on the glow,
Yet a druidic difference
Enhances nature now.
As imperceptibly as grief
The summer lapsed away, --
Too imperceptible, at last,
To seem like perfidy.
As twilight long begun,
Or Nature, spending with herself
Sequestered afternoon.
The dusk drew earlier in,
The morning foreign shone, --
A courteous, yet harrowing grace,
As guest who would be gone.
And thus, without a wing,
Or service of a keel,
Our summer made her light escape
It can't be summer, -- that got through;
It 's early yet for spring;
There 's that long town of white to cross
Before the blackbirds sing.
It can't be dying, -- it's too rougeM
The dead shall go in white.
So sunset shuts my question down
With clasps of chrysolite.
The gentian weaves her fringes,
The maple's loom is red.
My departing blossoms
A brief, but patient illness,
And one, below this morning,
Is where the angels are.
It was a short procession, --
The bobolink was there,
An aged bee addressed us,
And then we knelt in prayer.
We trust that she was willing, --
We ask that we may M
Summer, sister, seraph,
Let us go with thee!
In the name of the bee
And of the butterfly
And of the breeze, amen!
God made a little gentian;
It tried to be a rose
And failed, and all the summer laughed.
But just before the snows
There came a purple creature
That ravished all the hill;
And summer hid her forehead,
And mockery was still.
The frosts were her condition;
The Tyrian would not come
Until the North evoked it.
"Creator! shall I bloom?"
Besides the autumn poets sing,
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the haze.
A few incisive mornings,
A few ascetic eyes, --
Gone Mr. Bryant's golden-rod,
And Mr. Thomson's sheaves.
Still is the bustle in the brook,
Sealed are the spicy valves;
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The eyes of many elves.
Perhaps a squirrel may remain,
My sentiments to share.
Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind,
Thy windy will to bear!
sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.
It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, --
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.
It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil
On stump and stack and stem, --
The summer's empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, --
ills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
No brigadier throughout the year
So civic as the jay.
A neighbor and a warrior too,
With shrill felicity
Pursuing winds that censure us
The brother of the universe
Was never blown away.
The snow and he are intimate;
I 've often seen them play
When heaven looked upon us all
I felt apology were due
Whose pompous frown was nutriment
The pillow of this daring head
Is pungent evergreens;
His larder -- terse and militant --
Unknown, refreshing things;
His character a tonic,
His future a dispute;
Unfair an immortality
That leaves this neighbor out.
IV. TIME AND ETERNITY.
Let down the bars, O Death!
The tired flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat,
Whose wandering is done.
Thine is the stillest night,
Thine the securest fold;
Too near thou art for seeking thee,
Too tender to be told.
Pray do not ask me how, --
Indeed, I 'm too astonished
To think of answering you!
And yet it will be done
As sure as flocks go home at night
Unto the shepherd's arm!
Perhaps you 're going too!
If you should get there first,
Save just a little place for me
Close to the two I lost!
The smallest "robe" will fit me,
And just a bit of "crown;"
For you know we do not mind our dress
When we are going home.
 'm glad I don't believe it,
For it would stop my breath,
And I 'd like to look a little more
At such a curious earth!
I am glad they did believe it
Whom I have never found
Since the mighty autumn afternoon
I left them in the ground.
At least to pray is left, is left.
I know not which thy chamber is, --
I 'm knocking everywhere.
Thou stirrest earthquake in the South,
And maelstrom in the sea;
Say, Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
Hast thou no arm for me?
Step lightly on this narrow spot!
The broadest land that grows
Is not so ample as the breast
These emerald seams enclose.
Step lofty; for this name is told
As far as cannon dwell,
Or flag subsist, or fame export
Her deathless syllable.
Morns like these we parted;
Noons like these she rose,
Fluttering first, then firmer,
Never did she lisp it,
And 't was not for me;
She was mute from transport,
Till the evening, nearing,
Quick! a sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!
A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Who, till they died, did not alive become;
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun.
I read my sentence steadily,
Reviewed it with my eyes,
To see that I made no mistake
In its extremest clause, --
The date, and manner of the shame;
And then the pious form
That "God have mercy" on the soul
I made my soul familiar
That at the last it should not be
But she and Death, acquainted,
Meet tranquilly as friends,
Salute and pass without a hint --
And there the matter ends.
I have not told my garden yet,
Lest that should conquer me;
I have not quite the strength now
To break it to the bee.
I will not name it in the street,
For shops would stare, that I,
So shy, so very ignorant,
Should have the face to die.
The hillsides must not know it,
Where I have rambledM
Nor tell the loving forests
The day that I shall go,
Nor lisp it at the table,
Nor heedless by the way
Hint that within the riddle
One will walk to-day!
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
   Like petals from a rose,
When suddenly across the June
   A wind with fingers goes.
They perished in the seamless grass, --
   No eye could find the place;
But God on his repealless list
   Can summon every face.
The only ghost I ever M
Was dressed in mechlin, -- so;
He wore no sandal on his foot,
And stepped like flakes of snow.
His gait was soundless, like the bird,
But rapid, like the roe;
His fashions quaint, mosaic,
Or, haply, mistletoe.
His conversation seldom,
His laughter like the breeze
That dies away in dimples
Among the pensive trees.
Our interview was transient,--
Of me, himself was shy;
And God forbid I look behind
Since that appalling day!
Some, too fragile for winter winds,
The thoughtful gravM
Tenderly tucking them in from frost
Before their feet are cold.
Never the treasures in her nest
The cautious grave exposes,
Building where schoolboy dare not look
And sportsman is not bold.
This covert have all the children
Early aged, and often cold, --
Sparrows unnoticed by the Father;
Lambs for whom time had not a fold.
As by the dead we love to sit,
Become so wondrous dear,
As for the lost we grapple,
Though all the rest are here, --
In broken mathematics
e estimate our prize,
Vast, in its fading ratio,
To our penurious eyes!
Death sets a thing significant
The eye had hurried by,
Except a perished creature
To ponder little workmanships
In crayon or in wool,
With "This was last her fingers did,"
The thimble weighed too heavy,
The stitches stopped themselves,
And then 't was put among the dust
Upon the closet shelves.
A book I have, a friend gave,
Whose pencil, here and there,M
Had notched the place that pleased him, --
At rest his fingers are.
Now, when I read, I read not,
For interrupting tears
Obliterate the etchings
Too costly for repairs.
I went to heaven, --
'T was a small town,
Stiller than the fields
Beautiful as pictures
People like the moth,
ir height in heaven comforts not,
Their glory nought to me;
'T was best imperfect, as it was;
I 'm finite, I can't see.
The house of supposition,
The glimmering frontier
That skirts the acres of perhaps,
To me shows insecure.
The wealth I had contented me;
If 't was a meaner size,
Then I had counted it until
It pleased my narrow eyes
Better than larger values,
However true their show;
This timid life of evidence
Keeps pleading, "I don't know."
There is a shame of nobleness
onfronting sudden pelf, --
A finer shame of ecstasy
Convicted of itself.
A best disgrace a brave man feels,
Acknowledged of the brave, --
One more "Ye Blessed" to be told;
But this involves the grave.
Triumph may be of several kinds.
There 's triumph in the room
When that old imperator, Death,
By faith is overcome.
There 's triumph of the finer mind
When truth, affronted long,
Advances calm to her supreme,
Her God her only throng.
A triumph when temptation's bribeM
Is slowly handed back,
One eye upon the heaven renounced
And one upon the rack.
Severer triumph, by himself
Experienced, who can pass
Acquitted from that naked bar,
Jehovah's countenance!
Pompless no life can pass away;
    The lowliest career
To the same pageant wends its way
    As that exalted here.
How cordial is the mystery!
    The hospitable pall
A "this way" beckons spaciously, --
    A miracle for all!
I noticed people disappeared,
Supposed they visited remote,
Or settled regions wild.
Now know I they both visited
And settled regions wild,
But did because they died, -- a fact
Withheld the little child!
I had no cause to be awake,
My best was gone to sleep,
And morn a new politeness took,
And failed to wake them up,
But called the others clear,
And passed their curtains by.
Sweet morning, when I over-sleep,
Knock, recollect, for me!
I looked at sunrise once,
And then I looked at tM
And wishfulness in me arose
For circumstance the same.
'T was such an ample peace,
It could not hold a sigh, --
'T was Sabbath with the bells divorced,
'T was sunset all the day.
So choosing but a gown
And taking but a prayer,
The only raiment I should need,
I struggled, and was there.
If anybody's friend be dead,
It 's sharpest of the theme
The thinking how they walked alive,
At such and such a time.
Their costume, of a Sunday,
Some manner of the hair, --
Lost, in the sepulchre.
How warm they were on such a day:
You almost feel the date,
So short way off it seems; and now,
They 're centuries from that.
How pleased they were at what you said;
You try to touch the smile,
And dip your fingers in the frost:
When was it, can you tell,
You asked the company to tea,
Acquaintance, just a few,
And chatted close with this grand thing
That don't remember you?
Past bows and invitations,
Past interview, and vow,
Past what ourselves can esM
That makes the quick of woe!
Our journey had advanced;
Our feet were almost come
To that odd fork in Being's road,
Our pace took sudden awe,
Our feet reluctant led.
Before were cities, but between,
The forest of the dead.
Retreat was out of hope, --
Behind, a sealed route,
Eternity's white flag before,
And God at every gate.
Ample make this bed.
Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgmenM
Be its mattress straight,
Be its pillow round;
Let no sunrise' yellow noise
Interrupt this ground.
On such a night, or such a night,
If such a little figure
Slipped quiet from its chair,
So quiet, oh, how quiet!
That nobody might know
But that the little figure
Rocked softer, to and fro?
On such a dawn, or such a dawn,
That such a little figure
Too sound asleep did lie
For chanticleer to wake it,M
Or stirring house below,
Or giddy bird in orchard,
Or early task to do?
There was a little figure plump
For every little knoll,
Busy needles, and spools of thread,
And trudging feet from school.
Playmates, and holidays, and nuts,
And visions vast and small.
Strange that the feet so precious charged
Should reach so small a goal!
Essential oils are wrung:
The attar from the rose
Is not expressed by suns alone,
It is the gift of screws.
The general rose decays;
Makes summer when the lady lies
In ceaseless rosemary.
I lived on dread; to those who know
The stimulus there is
In danger, other impetus
Is numb and vital-less.
As 't were a spur upon the soul,
A fear will urge it where
To go without the spectre's aid
Were challenging despair.
And you should live,
And time should gurgle on,
And morn should beam,
And noon should burn,
As it has usual done;
If birds should build as early,
ees as bustling go, --
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
'T is sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with daisies lie,
That commerce will continue,
And trades as briskly fly.
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene,
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!
Her final summer was it,
And yet we guessed it not;
If tenderer industriousness
Pervaded her, we thought
A further force of life
Developed from within, --
When Death lit all the shortness up,
And made the hurry plain.
We wondered at our blindness, --
When nothing was to see
But her Carrara guide-post, --
When, duller than our dullness,
The busy darling lay,
So busy was she, finishing,
So leisurely were we!
One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Far safer, of a midnight meeting
Than an interior confronting
Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
Than, moonless, one's own self encounter
Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
The prudent carries a revolver,
O'erlooking a superior spectre
She died, -- this was the way she died;
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
le figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.
Wait till the majesty of Death
Invests so mean a brow!
Almost a powdered footman
Might dare to touch it now!
Wait till in everlasting robes
This democrat is dressed,
Then prate about "preferment"
And "station" and the rest!
Around this quiet courtier
Obsequious angels wait!
Full royal is his retinue,
Full purple is his state!
A lord might dare to lift the hat
To such a modest clay,
Since that my Lord, "the Lord of lords"
Receives unblushingly!
Went up a year this evening!
I recollect it well!
Amid no bells nor bravos
The bystanders will tell!
Cheerful, as to the village,
Tranquil, as to repose,
Chastened, as to the chapel,
This humble tourist rose.
Did not talk of returning,
When, were the gales propitious,
We might look for him;
Was grateful for the roses
In life's diverse bouquet,
Talked softly of new spM
To pick another day.
Beguiling thus the wonder,
The wondrous nearer drew;
Hands bustled at the moorings --
The crowd respectful grew.
Ascended from our vision
To countenances new!
A difference, a daisy,
Is all the rest I knew!
Taken from men this morning,
Carried by men to-day,
Met by the gods with banners
Who marshalled her away.
One little maid from playmates,
One little mind from school, --
There must be guests in Eden;
All the rooms are full.
 the east from even,
Dim as the border star, --
Courtiers quaint, in kingdoms,
Peculiar traveller comes?
Who is the landlord?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth,
No brimming tankards flow.
Necromancer, landlord,
Who are these below?
It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the dead lie down;
It was not night, for all the bells
Put out their tongues, for noon.
as not frost, for on my flesh
I felt siroccos crawl, --
Nor fire, for just my marble feet
Could keep a chancel cool.
And yet it tasted like them all;
The figures I have seen
Set orderly, for burial,
Reminded me of mine,
As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key;
And 't was like midnight, some,
When everything that ticked has stopped,
And space stares, all around,
Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
Repeal the beating ground.
But most like chaos, -M
- stopless, cool, --
Without a chance or spar,
Or even a report of land
I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because -- because if he should die
While I was gone, and I -- too late --
Should reach the heart that wanted me;
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted, hunted so, to see,
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me -- they noticed me;
If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I 'd come -- so sure I 'd come,
g, listening, went to sleep
Telling my tardy name, --
My heart would wish it broke before,
Since breaking then, since breaking then,
Were useless as next morning's sun,
Where midnight frosts had lain!
Great streets of silence led away
To neighborhoods of pause;
Here was no notice, no dissent,
No universe, no laws.
By clocks 't was morning, and for night
The bells at distance called;
But epoch had no basis here,
A hurry in the breath,
An ecstasy of parting
Denominated "Death," --
An anguish at the mention,
Which, when to patience grown,
I 've known permission given
Of tribulation these are they
Denoted by the white;
The spangled gowns, a lesser rank
Of victors designate.
All these did conquer; but the ones
Who overcame most times
Wear nothing commoner than snow,
No ornament but palms.
Surrender is a sort unknown
On this superior soil;
t, an outgrown anguish,
Remembered as the mile
Our panting ankle barely gained
When night devoured the road;
But we stood whispering in the house,
And all we said was "Saved"!
I think just how my shape will rise
When I shall be forgiven,
Till hair and eyes and timid head
Are out of sight, in heaven.
I think just how my lips will weigh
With shapeless, quivering prayer
That you, so late, consider me,
The sparrow of your care.
I mind me that of anguish sent,
Some drifts were movedM
Before my simple bosom broke, --
And why not this, if they?
And so, until delirious borne
I con that thing, -- "forgiven," --
Till with long fright and longer trust
I drop my heart, unshriven!
THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE.
After a hundred years
Nobody knows the place, --
Agony, that enacted there,
Motionless as peace.
Weeds triumphant ranged,
Strangers strolled and spelled
At the lone orthography
Winds of summer fields
Recollect the way, --
Lay this laurel on the one
Too intrinsic for renown.
Laurel! veil your deathless tree, --
Him you chasten, that is he!
'T is little I could care for pearls
  Who own the ample sea;
Or brooches, when the Emperor
  With rubies pelteth me;
Or gold, who am the Prince of Mines;
  Or diamonds, when I see
A diadem to fit a dome
  Continual crowning me.
SUPERIORITY TO FATE.
  Is difficult to learn.
'T is not conferred by any,
  But possible to earn
A pittance at a time,
  Until, to her surprise,
The soul with strict economy
  Subsists till Paradise.
Hope is a subtle glutton;
  He feeds upon the fair;
And yet, inspected closely,
  What abstinence is there!
His is the halcyon table
  That never seats but one,
And whatsoever is consumed
  The same amounts remain.
  That lawful orchards mocks;
How luscious lies the pea within
  The pod that Duty locks!
Heaven is what I cannot reach!
  The apple on the tree,
Provided it do hopeless hang,
  That 'heaven' is, to me.
The color on the cruising cloud,
  The interdicted ground
Behind the hill, the house behind, --
  There Paradise is found!
To venerate the simple days
  Which lead the seasons by,
Needs but to remember
  That from you or me
They may take the trifle
To invest existence with a stately air,
Needs but to remember
  That the acorn there
Is the egg of forests
  For the upper air!
It's such a little thing to weep,
  So short a thing to sigh;
And yet by trades the size of these
  We men and women die!
Drowning is not so pitiful
Three times, 't is said, a sinking man
  Comes up to face the skies,
And then declines forever
  To that abhorred abode
Where hope and he part company, --
  For he is grasped of God.
The Maker's cordial visage,
  However good to see,
Is shunned, we must admit it,
  Like an adversity.
How still the bells in steeples stand,
  Till, swollen with the sky,
They leap upon their silver feet
  In frantic melody!
If the foolish call them 'flowers,'
If the savans 'classify' them,
  It is just as well!
Those who read the Revelations
  Must not criticise
Those who read the same edition
  With beclouded eyes!
Could we stand with that old Moses
Scan, like him, the stately landscape
  On the other side, --
Doubtless we should deem superfluous
Not pursued by learn
  In scholastic skies!
Low amid that glad _Belles lettres_
  Grant that we may stand,
Stars, amid profound Galaxies,
hat grand 'Right hand'!
Could mortal lip divine
  The undeveloped freight
Of a delivered syllable,
  'T would crumble with the weight.
My life closed twice before its close;
  It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
  A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
  As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
  And all we need of hell.
We never know how high we are
 are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
  Our statures touch the skies.
The heroism we recite
  Would be a daily thing,
Did not ourselves the cubits warp
  For fear to be a king.
While I was fearing it, it came,
  But came with less of fear,
Because that fearing it so long
  Had almost made it dear.
There is a fitting a dismay,
  A fitting a despair.
'Tis harder knowing it is due,
  Than knowing it is here.
The trying on the utmost,
Is terribler than wearing it
  A whole existence through.
There is no frigate like a book
  To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
  Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
  Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
  That bears a human soul!
Who has not found the heaven below
  Will fail of it above.
God's residence is next to mine,
  His furniture is love.
  A hateful, hard, successful face,
A face with which a stone
  Would feel as thoroughly at ease
As were they old acquaintances, --
  First time together thrown.
I HAD A GUINEA GOLDEN.
I had a guinea golden;
  I lost it in the sand,
And though the sum was simple,
  And pounds were in the land,
Still had it such a value
  Unto my frugal eye,
That when I could not find it
  I sat me down to sigh.
I had a crimson robin
  Who sang full many a day,
  He, too, did fly away.
Time brought me other robins, --
  Their ballads were the same, --
Still for my missing troubadour
  I kept the 'house at hame.'
I had a star in heaven;
  One Pleiad was its name,
And when I was not heeding
  It wandered from the same.
And though the skies are crowded,
  And all the night ashine,
I do not care about it,
  Since none of them are mine.
My story has a moral:
  I have a missing friend, --
Pleiad its name, and robin,
  And guinea in the saM
And when this mournful ditty,
  Accompanied with tear,
Shall meet the eye of traitor
  In country far from here,
Grant that repentance solemn
  May seize upon his mind,
And he no consolation
  Beneath the sun may find.
From all the jails the boys and girls
  Ecstatically leap, --
Beloved, only afternoon
  That prison doesn't keep.
They storm the earth and stun the air,
  A mob of solid bliss.
Alas! that frowns could lie in wait
  For such a foe as thiM
Few get enough, -- enough is one;
  To that ethereal throng
Have not each one of us the right
  To stealthily belong?
Upon the gallows hung a wretch,
  Too sullied for the hell
To which the law entitled him.
  As nature's curtain fell
The one who bore him tottered in,
  For this was woman's son.
''T was all I had,' she stricken gasped;
  Oh, what a livid boon!
I felt a clearing in my mind
  As if my brain had split;
ied to match it, seam by seam,
  But could not make them fit.
The thought behind I strove to join
  Unto the thought before,
But sequence ravelled out of reach
  Like balls upon a floor.
The reticent volcano keeps
  His never slumbering plan;
Confided are his projects pink
  To no precarious man.
If nature will not tell the tale
  Jehovah told to her,
Can human nature not survive
  Without a listener?
Admonished by her buckled lips
  Let every babbler be.
nly secret people keep
If recollecting were forgetting,
  Then I remember not;
And if forgetting, recollecting,
  How near I had forgot!
And if to miss were merry,
  And if to mourn were gay,
How very blithe the fingers
  That gathered these to-day!
The farthest thunder that I heard
  Was nearer than the sky,
And rumbles still, though torrid noons
  Have lain their missiles by.
The lightning that preceded it
  Struck no one but mM
But I would not exchange the bolt
  For all the rest of life.
Indebtedness to oxygen
  The chemist may repay,
But not the obligation
It founds the homes and decks the days,
  And every clamor bright
Is but the gleam concomitant
  Of that waylaying light.
The thought is quiet as a flake, --
  A crash without a sound;
How life's reverberation
  Its explanation found!
On the bleakness of my lot
  Bloom I strove to raise.
Late, my acre of a rock
Soil of flint if steadfast tilled
  Will reward the hand;
Seed of palm by Lybian sun
  Fructified in sand.
A door just opened on a street --
  I, lost, was passing by --
An instant's width of warmth disclosed,
  And wealth, and company.
The door as sudden shut, and I,
  I, lost, was passing by, --
Lost doubly, but by contrast most,
  Enlightening misery.
Are friends delight or pain?
  Could bounty but remain
But if they only stay
Ashes denote that fire was;
  Respect the grayest pile
For the departed creature's sake
  That hovered there awhile.
Fire exists the first in light,
  And then consolidates, --
Only the chemist can disclose
  Into what carbonates.
Fate slew him, but he did not drop;
  She felled -- he did not fall --
Impaled him on her fiercest stakes --
  He neutralized them all.
he stung him, sapped his firm advance,
  But, when her worst was done,
And he, unmoved, regarded her,
  Acknowledged him a man.
Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
  For the one ship that struts the shore
Many's the gallant, overwhelmed creature
  Nodding in navies nevermore.
I measure every grief I meet
  With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
  Or has an easier size.
I wonder if they bore it long,
I could not tell the date of mine,
  It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
  And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
  They would not rather die.
I wonder if when years have piled --
  Some thousands -- on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
  Could give them any pause;
Or would they go on aching still
  Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
  By contrast with the love.
The grieved are many, I am told;
  The reason deeper liM
Death is but one and comes but once,
  And only nails the eyes.
There's grief of want, and grief of cold, --
  A sort they call 'despair;'
There's banishment from native eyes,
  In sight of native air.
And though I may not guess the kind
  Correctly, yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
  In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the cross,
  Of those that stand alone,
Still fascinated to presume
  That some are like my own.
I have a king who does not speak;
 wondering, thro' the hours meek
  I trudge the day away,--
Half glad when it is night and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream to peep
  In parlors shut by day.
And if I do, when morning comes,
It is as if a hundred drums
  Did round my pillow roll,
And shouts fill all my childish sky,
And bells keep saying 'victory'
  From steeples in my soul!
And if I don't, the little Bird
Within the Orchard is not heard,
  And I omit to pray,
'Father, thy will be done' to-day,
For my will goes the other way,
It dropped so low in my regard
  I heard it hit the ground,
And go to pieces on the stones
  At bottom of my mind;
Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less
  Than I reviled myself
For entertaining plated wares
  Upon my silver shelf.
To lose one's faith surpasses
  The loss of an estate,
Because estates can be
  Replenished, -- faith cannot.
Inherited with life,
  Belief but once can be;
  And Being's beggary.
  I half indifferent viewed,
Till sudden I perceived it stir, --
  It grew as I pursued,
Till when, around a crag,
  It wasted from my sight,
Enlarged beyond my utmost scope,
  I learned its sweetness right.
I worked for chaff, and earning wheat
  Was haughty and betrayed.
What right had fields to arbitrate
  In matters ratified?
I tasted wheat, -- and hated chaff,
  And thanked the ampleM
Wisdom is more becoming viewed
  At distance than at hand.
Life, and Death, and Giants
  Such as these, are still.
Minor apparatus, hopper of the mill,
Beetle at the candle,
  Or a fife's small fame,
Maintain by accident
  That they proclaim.
Our lives are Swiss, --
  So still, so cool,
  Till, some odd afternoon,
The Alps neglect their curtains,
  And we look farther on.
Italy stands the other side,
  While, like a guard between,
  Forever intervene!
Remembrance has a rear and front, --
  'T is something like a house;
It has a garret also
  For refuse and the mouse,
Besides, the deepest cellar
  That ever mason hewed;
Look to it, by its fathoms
  Ourselves be not pursued.
To hang our head ostensibly,
  And subsequent to find
That such was not the posture
  Of our immortal mind,
Affords the sly presumption
  That, in so dense a fuzz,
oo, take cobweb attitudes
  Upon a plane of gauze!
The brain is wider than the sky,
  For, put them side by side,
The one the other will include
  With ease, and you beside.
The brain is deeper than the sea,
  For, hold them, blue to blue,
The one the other will absorb,
  As sponges, buckets do.
The brain is just the weight of God,
  For, lift them, pound for pound,
And they will differ, if they do,
  As syllable from sound.
The bone that has noM
  What ultimate for that?
It is not fit for table,
  For beggar, or for cat.
A bone has obligations,
  A being has the same;
A marrowless assembly
  Is culpabler than shame.
But how shall finished creatures
  A function fresh obtain? --
Old Nicodemus' phantom
  Confronting us again!
The past is such a curious creature,
  To look her in the face
A transport may reward us,
Unarmed if any meet her,
  I charge him, fly!
Her rusty ammunitioM
To help our bleaker parts
  Salubrious hours are given,
Which if they do not fit for earth
  Drill silently for heaven.
What soft, cherubic creatures
  These gentlewomen are!
One would as soon assault a plush
  Or violate a star.
Such dimity convictions,
  A horror so refined
Of freckled human nature,
  Of Deity ashamed, --
It's such a common glory,
  A fisherman's degree!
Redemption, brittle lady,
  Be so, ashamed of thee.
Who never wanted, -- maddest joy
  Remains to him unknown:
The banquet of abstemiousness
  Surpasses that of wine.
Within its hope, though yet ungrasped
  Desire's perfect goal,
No nearer, lest reality
  Should disenthrall thy soul.
  To fail with land in sight,
Than gain my blue peninsula
  To perish of delight.
You cannot put a fire out;
  A thing that can ignite
Can go, itself, without a fan
on the slowest night.
You cannot fold a flood
  And put it in a drawer, --
Because the winds would find it out,
  And tell your cedar floor.
A modest lot, a fame petite,
  A brief campaign of sting and sweet
  Is plenty! Is enough!
A sailor's business is the shore,
  A soldier's -- balls. Who asketh more
Must seek the neighboring life!
Is bliss, then, such abyss
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?
I'd rather suit my foot
r yet to buy another pair
But bliss is sold just once;
None buy it any more.
I stepped from plank to plank
  So slow and cautiously;
The stars about my head I felt,
  About my feet the sea.
I knew not but the next
  Would be my final inch, --
This gave me that precarious gait
  Some call experience.
One day is there of the series
  Termed Thanksgiving day,
Celebrated part at table,
Neither patriarch nor pussy,
  I dissect the play;
Seems it, to my hooded thinking,
Had there been no sharp subtraction
  From the early sum,
Not an acre or a caption
  Where was once a room,
Not a mention, whose small pebble
  Wrinkled any bay, --
Unto such, were such assembly,
  'T were Thanksgiving day.
Softened by Time's consummate plush,
  How sleek the woe appears
That threatened childhood's citadel
Bisected now by bleaker griefs,
  We envy the despair
That devastated childhood's realm,
  So easy to repair.
Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
  Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,
  Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
My worthiness is all my doubt,
  His merit all my fear,
Contrasting which, my qualities
Lest I should insufficient prove
  For his beloved need,
The chiefest apprehension
  Within my loving creed.
So I, the undivine abode
  Of his elect content,
Conform my soul as 't were a church
  Unto her sacrament.
Love is anterior to life,
  Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
  The exponent of breath.
One blessing had I, than the rest
  So larger to my eyes
That I stopped gauging, satisfied,
  For this enchanted size.
It was the limit of my dream,
  The focus of my prayer, --
A perfect, paralyzing bliss
  Contented as despair.
I knew no more of want or cold,
  Phantasms both become,
For this new value in the soul,
  Supremest earthly sum.
The heaven below the heaven above
  Obscured with ruddier hue.
Life's latitude leant over-full;
  The judgment perished, too.
Why joys so scantily disburse,
  Why Paradise defer,
Why floods are served to us in bowls, --
  I speculate no more.
When roses cease to bloom, dear,
  And violets are done,
When bumble-bees in solemn flight
  Have passed beyond the sun,
The hand that paused to gather
  Upon this summer's day
Will idle lie, in Auburn, --
  Then take my flower, pray!
Summer for thee grant I may be
  When summer days are flown!
Thy music still when whippoorwill
  And oriole are done!
For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb
  And sow my blossoms o'er!
Pray gather me, Anemone,
  Thy flower forevermoreM
Split the lark and you'll find the music,
  Bulb after bulb, in silver rolled,
Scantily dealt to the summer morning,
  Saved for your ear when lutes be old.
Loose the flood, you shall find it patent,
  Gush after gush, reserved for you;
Scarlet experiment! sceptic Thomas,
  Now, do you doubt that your bird was true?
To lose thee, sweeter than to gain
  All other hearts I knew.
'T is true the drought is destitute,
  But then I had the dew!
an has its realms of sand,
  Its other realm of sea;
Without the sterile perquisite
  No Caspian could be.
  Poor little heart!
  Did they forget thee?
Then dinna care! Then dinna care!
  Proud little heart!
  Did they forsake thee?
Be debonair! Be debonair!
  Frail little heart!
  I would not break thee:
Could'st credit me? Could'st credit me?
  Like morning glory
Thou'll wilted be; thou'll wilted be!
  Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables,--
  At once is mute again.
Some epauletted brother
  Gave his breath away.
Wherever runs the breathless sun,
  Wherever roams the day,
There is its noiseless onset,
  There is its victory!
Behold the keenest marksman!
  The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
  Is a soul 'forgot'!
I've got an arrow here;
  Loving the hand that sent it,
Fell, they will say, in 'skirmish'!
  Vanquished, my soul will know,
By but a simple arrow
  Sped by an archer's bow.
He fumbles at your spirit
  As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on;
  He stuns you by degrees,
Prepares your brittle substance
  For the ethereal blow,
By fainter hammers, further heard,
  Then nearer, then so slow
Your breath has time to straighten,
  Your brain to bubble cool, --
Deals one imperial thunderbolt
  That scalps your naked soul.
Heart, we will forget him!
  You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
  I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me,
  That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you're lagging,
  I may remember him!
Father, I bring thee not myself, --
  That were the little load;
I bring thee the imperial heart
  I had not strength to hold.
The heart I cherished in my own
  Till mine too heavy grew,
, heavier since it went,
  Is it too large for you?
We outgrow love like other things
  And put it in the drawer,
Till it an antique fashion shows
  Like costumes grandsires wore.
Not with a club the heart is broken,
    Nor with a stone;
A whip, so small you could not see it.
To lash the magic creature
Yet that whip's name too noble
    By boy descried,
To sing unto the stone
My friend must be a bird,
    Because it flies!
Mortal my friend must be,
    Because it dies!
Barbs has it, like a bee.
    Thou puzzlest me!
He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
  I groped upon his breast.
It was a boundless place to me,
And silenced, as the awful sea
  Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I'm different from before,
As if I breathed superior air,
  Or brushed a royal gown;
feet, too, that had wandered so,
My gypsy face transfigured now
  To tenderer renown.
Let me not mar that perfect dream
  By an auroral stain,
But so adjust my daily night
  That it will come again.
I live with him, I see his face;
For visitor, or sundown;
  Death's single privacy,
The only one forestalling mine,
  And that by right that he
Presents a claim invisible,
  No wedlock granted me.
I live with him, I hearM
  I stand alive to-day
To witness to the certainty
Taught me by Time, -- the lower way,
  Conviction every day, --
That life like this is endless,
  Be judgment what it may.
I envy seas whereon he rides,
  I envy spokes of wheels
Of chariots that him convey,
  I envy speechless hills
That gaze upon his journey;
  How easy all can see
What is forbidden utterly
  As heaven, unto me!
I envy nests of sparrows
  That dot his distant eaves,M
The wealthy fly upon his pane,
  The happy, happy leaves
That just abroad his window
  Have summer's leave to be,
The earrings of Pizarro
  Could not obtain for me.
I envy light that wakes him,
  And bells that boldly ring
To tell him it is noon abroad, --
  Myself his noon could bring,
Yet interdict my blossom
  And abrogate my bee,
Lest noon in everlasting night
  Drop Gabriel and me.
A solemn thing it was, I said,
  A woman white to be,
And wear, if God shoulM
  Her hallowed mystery.
A timid thing to drop a life
  Into the purple well,
Too plummetless that it come back
The springtime's pallid landscape
  Will glow like bright bouquet,
Though drifted deep in parian
  The village lies to-day.
The lilacs, bending many a year,
  With purple load will hang;
The bees will not forget the tune
  Their old forefathers sang.
The rose will redden in the bog,
Her everlasting fashion set,
  And covenant gentians frill,
Till summer folds her miracle
  As women do their gown,
Or priests adjust the symbols
  When sacrament is done.
She slept beneath a tree
  Remembered but by me.
I touched her cradle mute;
She recognized the foot,
Put on her carmine suit, --
A light exists in spring
  Not present on the year
At any other period.
  When March is scarcely here
A color stands abroM
That science cannot overtake,
  But human nature feels.
It waits upon the lawn;
  It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
  It almost speaks to me.
Then, as horizons step,
  Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
  It passes, and we stay:
  Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
A lady red upon the hill
  Her annual secret keeps;
  In placid lily sleeps!
The tidy breezes with their brooms
  Sweep vale, and hill, and tree!
Prithee, my pretty housewives!
  Who may expected be?
The neighbors do not yet suspect!
  The woods exchange a smile --
Orchard, and buttercup, and bird --
  In such a little while!
And yet how still the landscape stands,
  How nonchalant the wood,
As if the resurrection
  Were nothing very odd!
Dear March, come in!
I looked for you before.
You must have walked --
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell!
I got your letter, and the birds';
The maples never knew
That you were coming, -- I declare,
How red their faces grew!
But, March, forgive me --
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.
Who knocks? That April!
He stayed away a year, to call
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame.
We like March, his shoes are purple,
  He is new and high;
Makes he mud for dog and peddler,
  Makes he forest dry;
Knows the adder's tongue his coming,
  And begets her spot.
Stands the sun so close and mighty
  That our minds are hot.
News is he of all the others;
  Bold it were to die
he blue-birds buccaneering
  On his British sky.
Not knowing when the dawn will come
  I open every door;
Or has it feathers like a bird,
  Or billows like a shore?
A murmur in the trees to note,
  Not loud enough for wind;
A star not far enough to seek,
  Nor near enough to find;
A long, long yellow on the lawn,
  A hubbub as of feet;
Not audible, as ours to us,
  But dapperer, more sweet;
A hurrying home of little men
  To houses unperceived, --
this, and more, if I should tell,
  Would never be believed.
Of robins in the trundle bed
Whose nightgowns could not hide the wings,
  Although I heard them try!
But then I promised ne'er to tell;
  How could I break my word?
So go your way and I'll go mine, --
  No fear you'll miss the road.
Morning is the place for dew,
  Corn is made at noon,
After dinner light for flowers,
  Dukes for setting sun!
To my quick ear the leaves conferred;
ushes they were bells;
I could not find a privacy
  From Nature's sentinels.
In cave if I presumed to hide,
  The walls began to tell;
Creation seemed a mighty crack
  To make me visible.
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
  Upon a common summer's morn,
A flash of dew, a bee or two,
A caper in the trees, --
High from the earth I heard a bird;
  He trod upon the trees
As he esteemed them trifles,
  And then he spied a breeze,
  Upon a pile of wind
Which in a perturbation
  Nature had left behind.
A joyous-going fellow
  I gathered from his talk,
Which both of benediction
  And badinage partook,
Without apparent burden,
  I learned, in leafy wood
He was the faithful father
  Of a dependent brood;
And this untoward transport
  His remedy for care, --
A contrast to our respites.
  How different we are!
The spider as an artist
  Has never been employed
Though his surpassing meriM
  Is freely certified
By every broom and Bridget
  Throughout a Christian land.
Neglected son of genius,
  I take thee by the hand.
What mystery pervades a well!
  The water lives so far,
Like neighbor from another world
  Residing in a jar.
The grass does not appear afraid;
Can stand so close and look so bold
  At what is dread to me.
Related somehow they may be, --
  The sedge stands next the sea,
Where he is floorless, yet of fear
But nature is a stranger yet;
  The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
  Nor simplified her ghost.
To pity those that know her not
  Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
  The nearer her they get.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, --
One clover, and a bee,
The revery alone will do
It's like the light, --
  A fashionless delight
  A dateless melody.
It's like the woods,
  Private like breeze,
Phraseless, yet it stirs
  The proudest trees.
It's like the morning, --
  Best when it's done, --
The everlasting clocks
A dew sufficed itself
  And satisfied a leaf,
And felt, 'how vast a destiny!
  How trivial is life!'
The sun went out to work,
  The day went out to play,
But not again that dew was seen
Whether by day abducted,
  Or emptied by the sun
  Eternally unknown.
His bill an auger is,
  His head, a cap and frill.
He laboreth at every tree, --
  A worm his utmost goal.
Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,
  Until we meet a snake;
'T is then we sigh for houses,
  And our departure take
At that enthralling gallop
  That only childhood knows.
A snake is summer's treason,
  And guile is where it goes.
Could I but ride indefinite,
And visit only where I liked,
  And no man visit me,
And flirt all day with buttercups,
  And marry whom I may,
And dwell a little everywhere,
  Or better, run away
With no police to follow,
  Or chase me if I do,
Till I should jump peninsulas
  To get away from you, --
I said, but just to be a bee
  Upon a raft of air,
And row in nowhere all day long,
  And anchor off the bar,--
What liberty! So captives deem
  Who tight in dungeons are.
on was but a chin of gold
  A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
  Upon the world below.
Her forehead is of amplest blond;
  Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
  The likest I have known.
Her lips of amber never part;
  But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
  Were such her silver will!
And what a privilege to be
  But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
  Beside your twinkling door.
Her bonnet is the firmament,
e universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
  Her dimities of blue.
The bat is dun with wrinkled wings
  Like fallow article,
And not a song pervades his lips,
  Or none perceptible.
His small umbrella, quaintly halved,
  Describing in the air
An arc alike inscrutable, --
  Elate philosopher!
Deputed from what firmament
  Of what astute abode,
Empowered with what malevolence
  Auspiciously withheld.
To his adroit Creator
  Ascribe no less the praise;M
Beneficent, believe me,
  His eccentricities.
You've seen balloons set, haven't you?
  So stately they ascend
It is as swans discarded you
  For duties diamond.
Their liquid feet go softly out
  Upon a sea of blond;
They spurn the air as 't were too mean
  For creatures so renowned.
Their ribbons just beyond the eye,
  They struggle some for breath,
And yet the crowd applauds below;
  They would not encore death.
The gilded creature strains and spins,
ps frantic in a tree,
Tears open her imperial veins
  And tumbles in the sea.
The crowd retire with an oath
  The dust in streets goes down,
And clerks in counting-rooms observe,
  ''T was only a balloon.'
And workmen finished, one by one,
  Their seam the day upon.
The low grass loaded with the dew,
The twilight stood as strangers do
With hat in hand, polite and new,
  To stay as if, or go.
A vastness, as a neighbor, came, --
 wisdom without face or name,
A peace, as hemispheres at home, --
  And so the night became.
Drab habitation of whom?
Or some elf's catacomb?
A sloop of amber slips away
  Upon an ether sea,
And wrecks in peace a purple tar,
  The son of ecstasy.
  The north, to-night!
  So adequate its forms,
So preconcerted with itself,
An unconcern so sovereign
  To universe, or me,
It paints my simple spirit
  With tints of majesty,
Till I take vaster attitudes,
  And strut upon my stem,
Disdaining men and oxygen,
  For arrogance of them.
My splendors are menagerie;
  But their competeless show
Will entertain the centuries
  When I am, long ago,
An island in dishonored grass,
  Whom none but daisies know.
THE COMING OF NIGHT.
How the old mountains drip with sunset,
  And the brake of dun!
 the hemlocks are tipped in tinsel
  By the wizard sun!
How the old steeples hand the scarlet,
  Till the ball is full, --
Have I the lip of the flamingo
  That I dare to tell?
Then, how the fire ebbs like billows,
  Touching all the grass
With a departing, sapphire feature,
  As if a duchess pass!
How a small dusk crawls on the village
  Till the houses blot;
And the odd flambeaux no men carry
  Glimmer on the spot!
Now it is night in nest and kennel,
  And where was the wood,
These are the visions baffled Guido;
  Titian never told;
Domenichino dropped the pencil,
  Powerless to unfold.
The murmuring of bees has ceased;
  But murmuring of some
Posterior, prophetic,
  Has simultaneous come, --
The lower metres of the year,
  When nature's laugh is done, --
The Revelations of the book
  Whose Genesis is June.
IV. TIME AND ETERNITY.
This world is not conclusion;
Invisible, as music,
  But positive, as sound.
It beckons and it baffles;
  Philosophies don't know,
And through a riddle, at the last,
To guess it puzzles scholars;
  To gain it, men have shown
Contempt of generations,
  And crucifixion known.
We learn in the retreating
Was recently among us.
Endears in the departure
Than all the golden presence
  Time never did assuage;
An actual suffering strengthens,
  As sinews do, with age.
Time is a test of trouble,
If such it prove, it prove too
  There was no malady.
We cover thee, sweet face.
  Not that we tire of thee,
But that thyself fatigue of us;
  Remember, as thou flee,
We follow thee until
  Thou notice us no more,
And then, reluctant, turn away
  To con thee o'er and o'er,
And blame the scanty love
  We were content to show,
ted, sweet, a hundred fold
  If thou would'st take it now.
That is solemn we have ended, --
Or a glee among the garrets,
Or a leaving home; or later,
  Parting with a world
We have understood, for better
  Still it be unfurled.
The stimulus, beyond the grave
  His countenance to see,
Supports me like imperial drams
Given in marriage unto thee,
  Oh, thou celestial host!
e Father and the Son,
  Bride of the Holy Ghost!
Other betrothal shall dissolve,
  Wedlock of will decay;
Only the keeper of this seal
  Conquers mortality.
That such have died enables us
  The tranquiller to die;
That such have lived, certificate
They won't frown always, -- some sweet day
  When I forget to tease,
They'll recollect how cold I looked,
  And how I just said 'please.'
Then they will hasten to the door
  To call the little chiM
Who cannot thank them, for the ice
  That on her lisping piled.
It is an honorable thought,
  And makes one lift one's hat,
As one encountered gentlefolk
  Upon a daily street,
That we've immortal place,
  Though pyramids decay,
And kingdoms, like the orchard,
  Flit russetly away.
The distance that the dead have gone
  Does not at first appear;
Their coming back seems possible
  For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them
We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
  With their dear retrospect.
How dare the robins sing,
  When men and women hear
Who since they went to their account
  Have settled with the year! --
Paid all that life had earned
  In one consummate bill,
And now, what life or death can do
Insulting is the sun
  To him whose mortal light,
Beguiled of immortality,
  Bequeaths him to the night.
  Extinct be every hum,
Whose garden wrestles M
  At daybreak overcome!
Death is like the insect
  Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
  But decoyed may be.
Bait it with the balsam,
  Seek it with the knife,
Baffle, if it cost you
  Everything in life.
Then, if it have burrowed
  Out of reach of skill,
Ring the tree and leave it, --
  'T is the vermin's will.
'T is sunrise, little maid, hast thou
  No station in the day?
'T was not thy wont to hinder so, --
ieve thine industry.
'T is noon, my little maid, alas!
  And art thou sleeping yet?
The lily waiting to be wed,
  The bee, dost thou forget?
My little maid, 't is night; alas,
  That night should be to thee
Instead of morning! Hadst thou broached
  Thy little plan to me,
Dissuade thee if I could not, sweet,
  I might have aided thee.
Each that we lose takes part of us;
  A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
  Is summoned by the tides.
Not any higher stands the grave
  For heroes than for men;
Not any nearer for the child
  Than numb three-score and ten.
This latest leisure equal lulls
  The beggar and his queen;
Propitiate this democrat
  By summer's gracious mien.
As far from pity as complaint,
  As cool to speech as stone,
As numb to revelation
  As if my trade were bone.
As far from time as history,
  As near yourself to-day
As children to the rainbow's scarf,
  Or sunset's yellow play
yelids in the sepulchre.
  How still the dancer lies,
While color's revelations break,
  And blaze the butterflies!
'T is whiter than an Indian pipe,
  'T is dimmer than a lace;
No stature has it, like a fog,
  When you approach the place.
Not any voice denotes it here,
  Or intimates it there;
A spirit, how doth it accost?
  What customs hath the air?
This limitless hyperbole
  Each one of us shall be;
'T is drama, if (hypothesis)
  It be not tragedy!
She laid her docile crescent down,
  And this mechanic stone
Still states, to dates that have forgot,
  The news that she is gone.
So constant to its stolid trust,
  The shaft that never knew,
It shames the constancy that fled
  Before its emblem flew.
Bless God, he went as soldiers,
  His musket on his breast;
Grant, God, he charge the bravest
  Of all the martial blest.
Please God, might I behold him
  In epauletted white,
I should not fear the foe theM
  I should not fear the fight.
Immortal is an ample word
  When what we need is by,
But when it leaves us for a time,
  'T is a necessity.
Of heaven above the firmest proof
  We fundamental know,
Except for its marauding hand,
  It had been heaven below.
Where every bird is bold to go,
  And bees abashless play,
The foreigner before he knocks
  Must thrust the tears away.
The grave my little cottage is,
  Where, keeping house for thee,
make my parlor orderly,
  And lay the marble tea,
For two divided, briefly,
  A cycle, it may be,
Till everlasting life unite
  In strong society.
This was in the white of the year,
  That was in the green,
Drifts were as difficult then to think
  As daisies now to be seen.
Looking back is best that is left,
  Or if it be before,
Retrospection is prospect's half,
  Sometimes almost more.
Sweet hours have perished here;
  This is a mighty room;
incts hopes have played, --
  Now shadows in the tomb.
Me! Come! My dazzled face
In such a shining place!
Me! Hear! My foreign ear
The sounds of welcome near!
The saints shall meet
That they remember me;
My paradise, the fame
That they pronounce my name.
From us she wandered now a year,
  Her tarrying unknown;
If wilderness prevent her feet,
  Or that ethereal zone
No eye hath seen and lived,
We only know what time of year
  We took the mystery.
I wish I knew that woman's name,
  So, when she comes this way,
To hold my life, and hold my ears,
  For fear I hear her say
She's 'sorry I am dead,' again,
  Just when the grave and I
Have sobbed ourselves almost to sleep, --
Bereaved of all, I went abroad,
  No less bereaved to be
Upon a new peninsula, --
  The grave preceded me,
  And when I sought my bed,
The grave it was, reposed upon
  The pillow for my head.
I waked, to find it first awake,
  I rose, -- it followed me;
I tried to drop it in the crowd,
  To lose it in the sea,
In cups of artificial drowse
  To sleep its shape away, --
The grave was finished, but the spade
  Remained in memory.
I felt a funeral in my brain,
  And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
  That sense was breaking through.
 when they all were seated,
  A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
  My mind was going numb.
And then I heard them lift a box,
  And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
  Then space began to toll
As all the heavens were a bell,
  And Being but an ear,
And I and silence some strange race,
  Wrecked, solitary, here.
I meant to find her when I came;
  Death had the same design;
But the success was his, it seems,
  And the discomfit minM
I meant to tell her how I longed
  For just this single time;
But Death had told her so the first,
  And she had hearkened him.
To wander now is my abode;
  To rest, -- to rest would be
A privilege of hurricane
I sing to use the waiting,
  My bonnet but to tie,
And shut the door unto my house;
  No more to do have I,
Till, his best step approaching,
  We journey to the day,
And tell each other how we sang
  To keep the dark away.
A sickness of this world it most occasions
  When best men die;
A wishfulness their far condition
A chief indifference, as foreign
Themselves forsake contented,
Superfluous were the sun
  When excellence is dead;
He were superfluous every day,
  For every day is said
That syllable whose faith
  Just saves it from despair,
And whose 'I'll meet you' hesitates
  If love inquire, 'Where?'
Upon his dateless fame
As stars that drop anonymous
  From an abundant sky.
So proud she was to die
  It made us all ashamed
That what we cherished, so unknown
  To her desire seemed.
  Where none of us should be,
Immediately, that anguish stooped
  Almost to jealousy.
Tie the strings to my life, my Lord,
  Then I am ready to go!
Just a look at the horses --
  Rapid! That will do!
Put me in on the firmest side,
  So I shall never fallM
For we must ride to the Judgment,
  And it's partly down hill.
But never I mind the bridges,
  And never I mind the sea;
Held fast in everlasting race
  By my own choice and thee.
Good-by to the life I used to live,
  And the world I used to know;
And kiss the hills for me, just once;
  Now I am ready to go!
The dying need but little, dear, --
  A glass of water's all,
A flower's unobtrusive face
  To punctuate the wall,
A fan, perhaps, a friend's regret,
No color in the rainbow
  Perceives when you are gone.
There's something quieter than sleep
  Within this inner room!
It wears a sprig upon its breast,
  And will not tell its name.
Some touch it and some kiss it,
  Some chafe its idle hand;
It has a simple gravity
  I do not understand!
While simple-hearted neighbors
  Chat of the 'early dead,'
We, prone to periphrasis,
  Remark that birds have fled!
The soul should always stand ajar,
  That if the heaven inquire,
He will not be obliged to wait,
  Or shy of troubling her.
Depart, before the host has slid
  The bolt upon the door,
To seek for the accomplished guest, --
  Her visitor no more.
Three weeks passed since I had seen her, --
  Some disease had vexed;
'T was with text and village singing
  I beheld her next,
And a company -- our pleasure
  To discourse alone;
Gracious now to me as any,
  Gracious unto none.
Borne, without dissent of either,
Of the separated people
  Which are out of sight?
I breathed enough to learn the trick,
  And now, removed from air,
I simulate the breath so well,
  That one, to be quite sure
The lungs are stirless, must descend
  Among the cunning cells,
And touch the pantomime himself.
  How cool the bellows feels!
I wonder if the sepulchre
  Is not a lonesome way,
When men and boys, and larks and June
  Go down the fields to hay!
If tolling bell I ask the cause.
  'A soul has gone to God,'
I'm answered in a lonesome tone;
  Is heaven then so sad?
That bells should joyful ring to tell
  A soul had gone to heaven,
Would seem to me the proper way
  A good news should be given.
If I may have it when it's dead
  I will contented be;
If just as soon as breath is out
  It shall belong to me,
Until they lock it in the grave,
  'T is bliss I cannot weigh,
For though they lock thee in the grave,
Think of it, lover! I and thee
  Permitted face to face to be;
After a life, a death we'll say, --
  For death was that, and this is thee.
Before the ice is in the pools,
  Before the skaters go,
Or any cheek at nightfall
  Is tarnished by the snow,
Before the fields have finished,
  Before the Christmas tree,
  Will arrive to me!
What we touch the hems of
  On a summer's day;
What is only walking
  Just a bridge away;
  When there's no one here, --
Will the frock I wept in
  Answer me to wear?
I heard a fly buzz when I died;
  The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
  Between the heaves of storm.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
  And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
  Be witnessed in his power.
I willed my keepsakes, signed away
  What portion of me I
Could make assignable, -- and then
  There interposed a fly,M
With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
  Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
  I could not see to see.
Adrift! A little boat adrift!
  And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
  Unto the nearest town?
So sailors say, on yesterday,
  Just as the dusk was brown,
One little boat gave up its strife,
  And gurgled down and down.
But angels say, on yesterday,
  Just as the dawn was red,
One little boat o'erspent with gales
s masts, redecked its sails
  Exultant, onward sped!
There's been a death in the opposite house
  As lately as to-day.
I know it by the numb look
  Such houses have alway.
The neighbors rustle in and out,
  The doctor drives away.
A window opens like a pod,
  Abrupt, mechanically;
Somebody flings a mattress out, --
  The children hurry by;
They wonder if It died on that, --
  I used to when a boy.
The minister goes stiffly in
  As if the house were his,
And he owned all thM
  And little boys besides;
And then the milliner, and the man
  Of the appalling trade,
To take the measure of the house.
  There'll be that dark parade
Of tassels and of coaches soon;
  It's easy as a sign, --
The intuition of the news
  In just a country town.
We never know we go, -- when we are going
  We jest and shut the door;
Fate following behind us bolts it,
  And we accost no more.
It struck me every day
As if the cloud that instant slit
  And let the fire through.
It burned me in the night,
  It blistered in my dream;
It sickened fresh upon my sight
  With every morning's beam.
I thought that storm was brief, --
  The maddest, quickest by;
But Nature lost the date of this,
  And left it in the sky.
Water is taught by thirst;
Land, by the oceans passed;
  Transport, by throe;
Peace, by its battles told;
Love, by memorial mould;
  Birds, by the snow.
We thirst at first, -- 't is Nature's act;
  And later, when we die,
A little water supplicate
  Of fingers going by.
It intimates the finer want,
  Whose adequate supply
Is that great water in the west
  Termed immortality.
A clock stopped -- not the mantel's;
  Geneva's farthest skill
Can't put the puppet bowing
  That just now dangled still.
An awe came on the trinket!
  The figures hunched with pain,
Then quivered out of decimals
  Into degreeless noon.
ll not stir for doctors,
  This pendulum of snow;
The shopman importunes it,
  While cool, concernless No
Nods from the gilded pointers,
  Nods from the seconds slim,
Decades of arrogance between
  The dial life and him.
All overgrown by cunning moss,
  All interspersed with weed,
The little cage of 'Currer Bell,'
  In quiet Haworth laid.
This bird, observing others,
  When frosts too sharp became,
Retire to other latitudes,
  Quietly did the same,
But differed in returning;
  Since Yorkshire hills are green,
Yet not in all the nests I meet
  Can nightingale be seen.
Gathered from many wanderings,
  Gethsemane can tell
Through what transporting anguish
  She reached the asphodel!
Soft fall the sounds of Eden
  Upon her puzzled ear;
Oh, what an afternoon for heaven,
A toad can die of light!
Death is the common right
  Of toads and men, --
The gnat's supremacy
Far from love the Heavenly Father
  Leads the chosen child;
Oftener through realm of briar
  Than the meadow mild,
Oftener by the claw of dragon
  Than the hand of friend,
Guides the little one predestined
  To the native land.
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
  That makes no show for dawn
By stretch of limb or stir of lid, --
  An independent one.
Was ever idleness like this?
  Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
  Nor once look up for noon?
'T was just this time last year I died.
  I know I heard the corn,
When I was carried by the farms, --
  It had the tassels on.
I thought how yellow it would look
  When Richard went to mill;
And then I wanted to get out,
  But something held my will.
I thought just how red apples wedged
  The stubble's joints between;
And carts went stooping round the fields
  To take the pumpkins in.
I wondered which wouM
  And when Thanksgiving came,
If father'd multiply the plates
  To make an even sum.
And if my stocking hung too high,
  Would it blur the Christmas glee,
That not a Santa Claus could reach
  The altitude of me?
But this sort grieved myself, and so
  I thought how it would be
When just this time, some perfect year,
  Themselves should come to me.
On this wondrous sea,
Knowest thou the shore
Where no breakers roarM
  Where the storm is o'er?
  Their anchors fast;
Thither I pilot thee, --
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 4006a93bfda649cc785dab5215ef1da0H0E
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I was returning home by the fields. It was midsummer, the hay harvest was over and they were just beginning to reap the rye. At that season of the year there is a delightful variety of flowers -- red, white, and pink scented tufty clover; milk-white ox-eye daisies with their bright yellow centers and pleasant spicy smell; yellow honey-scented rape blossoms; tall campanulas with white and lilac bells, tulip-shaped; creeping vetch; yellow, red, and pink scabious; faintlM
y scented, neatly arranged purple plaintains with blossoms slightly tinged with pink; cornflowers, the newly opened blossoms bright blue in the sunshine but growing paler and redder towards evening or when growing old; and delicate almond-scented dodder flowers that withered quickly. I gathered myself a large nosegay and was going home when I noticed in a ditch, in full bloom, a beautiful thistle plant of the crimson variety, which in our neighborhood they call "Tartar" and carefully avoid when mowing -- or, if theM
y do happen to cut it down, throw out from among the grass for fear of pricking their hands. Thinking to pick this thistle and put it in the center of my nosegay, I climbed down into the ditch, and after driving away a velvety bumble-bee that had penetrated deep into one of the flowers and had there fallen sweetly asleep, I set to work to pluck the flower. But this proved a very difficult task. Not only did the stalk prick on every side -- even through the handkerchief I wrapped round my hand -- but it was so toughM
 that I had to struggle with it for nearly five minutes, breaking the fibers one by one; and when I had at last plucked it, the stalk was all frayed and the flower itself no longer seemed so fresh and beautiful. Moreover, owing to a coarseness and stiffness, it did not seem in place among the delicate blossoms of my nosegay. I threw it away feeling sorry to have vainly destroyed a flower that looked beautiful in its proper place.
"But what energy and tenacity! With what determination it defended itself, and how M
dearly it sold its life!" thought I, remembering the effort it had cost me to pluck the flower. The way home led across black-earth fields that had just been plowed up. I ascended the dusty path. The plowed field belonged to a landed proprietor and was so large that on both sides and before me to the top of the hill nothing was visible but evenly furrowed and moist earth. The land was well tilled and nowhere was there a blade of grass or any kind of plant to be seen, it was all black. "Ah, what a destructive creatuM
re is man....How many different plant-lives he destroys to support his own existence!" thought I, involuntarily looking around for some living thing in this lifeless black field. In front of me to the right of the road I saw some kind of little clump, and drawing nearer I found it was the same kind of thistle as that which I had vainly plucked and thrown away. This "Tartar" plant had three branches. One was broken and stuck out like the stump of a mutilated arm. Each of the other two bore a flower, once red but nowM
 blackened. One stalk was broken, and half of it hung down with a soiled flower at its tip. The other, though also soiled with black mud, still stood erect. Evidently a cartwheel had passed over the plant but it had risen again, and that was why, though erect, it stood twisted to one side, as if a piece of its body had been torn from it, its bowels drawn out, an arm torn off, and one of its eyes plucked out. Yet it stood firm and did not surrender to man who had destroyed all its brothers around it....
ality!" I thought. "Man has conquered everything and destroyed millions of plants, yet this one won't submit." And I remembered a Caucasian episode of years ago, which I had partly seen myself, partly heard of from eye-witnesses, and in part imagined.
The episode, as it has taken shape in my memory and imagination, was as follows.
It happened towards the end of 1851.
On a cold November evening Hadji Murat rode into Makhmet, a hostile Chechen aoul that lay some fifteen miles from Russian territory M
and was filled with the scented smoke of burning Kizyak. The strained chant of the muezzin had just ceased, and though the clear mountain air, impregnated with kizyak smoke, above the lowing of the cattle and the bleating of the sheep that were dispersing among the saklyas (which were crowded together like the cells of honeycomb), could be clearly heard the guttural voices of disputing men, and sounds of women's and children's voices rising from near the fountain below.
This Hadji Murat was Shamil's naib, famousM
 for his exploits, who used never to ride out without his banner and some dozens of murids, who caracoled and showed off before him. Now wrapped in a hood and burka, from under which protruded a rifle, he rode, a fugitive with one murid only, trying to attract as little attention as possible and peering with his quick black eyes into the faces of those he met on his way.
When he entered the aoul, instead of riding up the road leading to the open square, he turned to the left into a narrow side street, and on reaM
ching the second saklya, which was cut into the hill side, he stopped and looked round. There was no one under the penthouse in front, but on the roof of the saklya itself, behind the freshly plastered clay chimney, lay a man covered with a sheepskin. Hadji Murat touched him with the handle of his leather-plaited whip and clicked his tongue, and an old man, wearing a greasy old beshmet and a nightcap, rose from under the sheepskin. His moist red eyelids had no lashes, and he blinked to get them unstuck. Hadji MuratM
, repeating the customary "Selaam aleikum!" uncovered his face. "aleikum, selaam!" said the old man, recognizing him, and smiling with his toothless mouth. And raising himself on his thin legs he began thrusting his feet into the wooden-heeled slippers that stood by the chimney. Then he leisurely slipped his arms into the sleeves of his crumpled sheepskin, and going to the ladder that leant against the roof he descended backwards, while he dressed and as he climbed down he kept shaking his head on its thin, shrivelM
ed sunburnt neck and mumbling something with his toothless mouth. As soon as he reached the ground he hospitably seized Hadji Murat's bridle and right stirrup; but the strong active murid had quickly dismounted and motioning the old man aside, took his place. Hadji Murat also dismounted, and walking with a slight limp, entered under the penthouse. A boy of fifteen, coming quickly out of the door, met him and wonderingly fixed his sparkling eyes, black as ripe sloes, on the new arrivals.
"run to the mosque and caM
ll your father," ordered the old man as he hurried forward to open the thin, creaking door into the saklya.
As Hadji Murat entered the outer door, a slight, spare, middle-aged woman in a yellow smock, red beshmet, and wide blue trousers came through an inner door carrying cushions.
"May thy coming bring happiness!" said she, and bending nearly double began arranging the cushions along the front wall for the guest to sit on.
"May thy sons live!" answered Hadji Murat, taking off his burka, his rifle, and hisM
 sword, and handing them to the old man who carefully hung the rifle and sword on a nail beside the weapons of the master of the house, which were suspended between two large basins that glittered against the clean clay-plastered and carefully whitewashed wall.
Hadji Murat adjusted the pistol at his back, came up to the cushions, and wrapping his Circassian coat closer round him, sat down. The old man squatted on his bare heels beside him, closed his eyes, and lifted his hands palms upwards. Hadji Murat did the M
same; then after repeating a prayer they both stroked their faces, passing their hands downward till the palms joined at the end of their beards.
"Ne habar?" ("Is there anything new?") asked Hadji Murat, addressing the old man.
"Habar yok" ("Nothing new"), replied the old man, looking with his lifeless red eyes not at Hadji Murat's face but at his breast. "I live at the apiary and have only today come to see my son....He knows."
Hadji Murat, understanding that the old man did not wish to say what he knew aM
nd what Hadji Murat wanted to know, slightly nodded his head and asked no more questions.
"There is no good news," said the old man. "The only news is that the hares keep discussing how to drive away the eagles, and the eagles tear first one and then another of them. The other day the Russian dogs burnt the hay in the Mitchit aoul....May their faces be torn!" he added hoarsely and angrily.
Hadji Murat's murid entered the room, his strong legs striding softly over the earthen floor. Retaining only his dagger aM
nd pistol, he took off his burka, rifle, and sword as Hadji Murat had done, and hung them up on the same nails as his leader's weapons.
"Who is he?" asked the old man, pointing to the newcomer.
"My murid. Eldar is his name," said Hadji Murat.
"That is well," said the old man, and motioned Eldar to a place on a piece of felt beside Hadji Murat. Eldar sat down, crossing his legs and fixing his fine ram-like eyes on the old man who, having now started talking, was telling how their brave fellows had caught twM
o Russian soldiers the week before and had killed one and sent the other to Shamil in Veden.
Hadji Murat heard him absently, looking at the door and listening to the sounds outside. Under the penthouse steps were heard, the door creaked, and Sado, the master of the house, came in. He was a man of about forty, with a small beard, long nose, and eyes as black, though not as glittering, as those of his fifteen-year-old son who had run to call him home and who now entered with his father and sat down by the door. ThM
e master of the house took off his wooden slippers at the door, and pushing his old and much-worn cap to the back of his head (which had remained unshaved so long that it was beginning to be overgrown with black hair), at once squatted down in front of Hadji Murat.
He too lifted his palms upwards, as the old man had done, repeated a prayer, and then stroked his face downward. Only after that did he begin to speak. He told how an order had come from Shamil to seize Hadji Murat alive or dead, that Shamil's envoys M
had left only the day before, that the people were afraid to disobey Shamil's orders, and that therefore it was necessary to be careful.
"In my house," said Sado, "no one shall injure my kunak while I live, but how will it be in the open fields?...We must think it over."
Hadji Murat listened with attention and nodded approvingly. When Sado had finished he said:
"Very well. Now we must send a man with a letter to the Russians. My murid will go but he will need a guide."
"I will send brother Bata," said SM
ado. "Go and call Bata," he added, turning to his son.
The boy instantly bounded to his nimble feet as if he were on springs, and swinging his arms, rapidly left the saklya. Some ten minutes later he returned with a sinewy, short-legged Chechen, burnt almost black by the sun, wearing a worn and tattered yellow Circassian coat with frayed sleeves, and crumpled black leggings.
Hadji Murat greeted the newcomer, and again without wasting a single word, immediately asked:
"Canst thou conduct my murid to the RusM
"I can," gaily replied Bata. "I can certainly do it. There is not another Chechen who would pass as I can. Another might agree to go and might promise anything, but would do nothing; but I can do it!"
"All right," said Hadji Murat. "Thou shalt receive three for thy trouble," and he held up three fingers.
Bata nodded to show that he understood, and added that it was not money he prized, but that he was ready to serve Hadji Murat for the honor alone. Every one in the mountains knew Hadji Murat, and hM
ow he slew the Russian swine.
"Very well....A rope should be long but a speech short," said Hadji Murat.
"Well then I'll hold my tongue," said Bata.
"Where the river Argun bends by the cliff," said Hadji Murat, "there are two stacks in a glade in the forest -- thou knowest?"
"There my four horsemen are waiting for me," said Hadji Murat.
"Aye," answered Bata, nodding.
"Ask for Khan Mahoma. He knows what to do and what to say. Canst thou lead him to the Russian Commander, Prince VorontsM
"Yes, I'll take him."
"Canst thou take him and bring him back again?"
"then take him there and return to the wood. I shall be there too."
"I will do it all," said Bata, rising, and putting his hands on his heart he went out.
Hadji Murat turned to his host.
"A man must also be sent to Chekhi," he began, and took hold of one of the cartridge pouches of his Circassian coat, but let his hand drop immediately and became silent on seeing two women enter the saklya.
e -- the thin middle-aged woman who had arranged the cushions. The other was quite a young girl, wearing red trousers and a green beshmet. A necklace of silver coins covered the whole front of her dress, and at the end of the short but thick plait of hard black hair that hung between her thin shoulder-blades a silver ruble was suspended. Her eyes, as sloe- black as those of her father and brother, sparkled brightly in her young face which tried to be stern. She did not look at the visitors, but evidently felt theirM
Sado's wife brought in a low round table on which stood tea, pancakes in butter, cheese, churek (that is, thinly rolled out bread), and honey. The girl carried a basin, a ewer, and a towel.
Sado and Hadji Murat kept silent as long as the women, with their coin ornaments tinkling, moved softly about in their red soft-soled slippers, setting out before the visitors the things they had brought. Eldar sat motionless as a statue, his ram-like eyes fixed on his crossed legs, all the time the women were iM
n the saklya. Only after they had gone and their soft footsteps could no longer be heard behind the door, did he give a sigh of relief.
Hadji Murat having pulled out a bullet from one of the cartridge-pouches of his Circassian coat, and having taken out a rolled-up note that lay beneath it, held it out, saying:
"To be handed to my son."
"Where must the answer be sent?"
"To thee; and thou must forward it to me."
"It shall be done," said Sado, and placed the note in the cartridge-pocket of his own coatM
. Then he took up the metal ewer and moved the basin towards Hadji Murat.
Hadji Murat turned up the sleeves of his beshmet on his white muscular arms, held out his hands under the clear cold water which Sado poured from the ewer, and having wiped them on a clean unbleached towel, turned to the table. Eldar did the same. While the visitors ate, Sado sat opposite and thanked them several times for their visit. The boy sat by the door never taking his sparkling eyes off Hadji Murat's face, and smiled as if in confiM
rmation of his father's words.
Though he had eaten nothing for more than twenty-four hours Hadji Murat ate only a little bread and cheese; then, drawing out a small knife from under his dagger, he spread some honey on a piece of bread.
"Our honey is good," said the old man, evidently pleased to see Hadji Murat eating his honey. "This year, above all other years, it is plentiful and good."
"I thank thee," said Hadji Murat and turned from the table. Eldar would have liked to go on eating but he followed his M
leader's example, and having moved away from the table, handed him the ewer and basin.
Sado knew that he was risking his life by receiving such a guest in his house, for after his quarrel with Shamil the latter had issued a proclamation to all the inhabitants of Chechnya forbidding them to receive Hadji Murat on pain of death. He knew that the inhabitants of the aoul might at any moment become aware of Hadji Murat's presence in his house and might demand his surrender. But this not only did not frighten Sado, itM
 even gave him pleasure with himself because he was doing his duty.
"Whilst thou are in my house and my head is on my shoulders no one shall harm thee," he repeated to Hadji Murat.
Hadji Murat looked into his glittering eyes and understanding that this was true, said with some solemnity --
"Mayst thou receive joy and life!"
Sado silently laid his hand on his heart in token of thanks for these kind words.
Having closed the shutters of the saklya and laid some sticks in the fireplace, Sado, in an excepM
tionally bright and animated mood, left the room and went into that part of his saklya where his family all lived. The women had not yet gone to sleep, and were talking about the dangerous visitors who were spending the night in their guest chambers.
At Vozvizhensk, the advanced fort situated some ten miles from the aoul in which Hadji Murat was spending the night, three soldiers and a noncommissioned officer left the fort and went beyond the Shahgirinsk Gate. The soldiers, dressed as Caucasian soM
ldiers used to be in those days, wore sheepskin coats and caps, and boots that reached above their knees, and they carried their cloaks tightly rolled up and fastened across their shoulders. Shouldering arms, they first went some five hundred paces along the road and then turned off it and went some twenty paces to the right -- the dead leaves rustling under their boots -- till they reached the blackened trunk of a broken plane tree just visible through the darkness. There they stopped. It was at this plane tree thM
at an ambush party was usually placed.
The bright stars, that had seemed to be running along the tree tops while the soldiers were walking through the forest, now stood still, shining brightly between the bare branches of the trees.
"A good job it's dry," said the noncommissioned officer Panov, bringing down his long gun and bayonet with a clang from his shoulder and placing it against the plane tree.
The three soldiers did the same.
"Sure enough I've lost it!" muttered Panov crossly. "Must have left itM
 behind or I've dropped it on the way."
"What are you looking for?" asked one of the soldiers in a bright, cheerful voice.
"The bowl of my pipe. Where the devil has it got to?"
"Have you got the stem?" asked the cheerful voice.
"Then why not stick it straight into the ground?"
"Not worth bothering!"
"We'll manage that in a minute."
smoking in ambush was forbidden, but this ambush hardly deserved the name. It was rather an outpost to prevent the mountaineers from bringing up a cM
annon unobserved and firing at the fort as they used to. Panov did not consider it necessary to forego the pleasure of smoking, and therefore accepted the cheerful soldier's offer. the latter took a knife from his pocket and made a small round hole in the ground. Having smoothed it, he adjusted the pipe stem to it, then filled the hole with tobacco and pressed it down, and the pipe was ready. A sulfur match flared and for a moment lit up the broadcheeked face of the soldier who lay on his stomach, the air whistled M
in the stem, and Panov smelt the pleasant odor of burning tobacco.
"Fixed ut up?" said he, rising to his feet.
"What a smart chap you are, Avdeev!...As wise as a judge! Now then, lad."
Avdeev rolled over on his side to make room for Panov, letting smoke escape from his mouth.
Panov lay down prone, and after wiping the mouthpiece with his sleeve, began to inhale.
When they had had their smoke the soldiers began to talk.
"They say the commander has had his fingers in the cashboxM
 again," remarked one of them in a lazy voice. "He lost at cards, you see."
"He'll pay it back again," said Panov.
"Of course he will! He's a good officer," assented Avdeev.
"Good! good!" gloomily repeated the man who had started the conversation. "In my opinion the company ought to speak to him. 'If you've taken the money, tell us how much and when you'll repay it.'"
"That will be as the company decides," said Panov, tearing himself away from the pipe.
"Of course. 'The community is a strong man,'" aM
ssented Avdeev, quoting a proverb.
"There will be oats to buy and boots to get towards spring. the money will be wanted, and what shall we do if he's pocketed it?" insisted the dissatisfied one.
"I tell you it will be as the company wishes," repeated Panov. "It's not the first time; he takes it and gives it back."
In the Caucasus in those days each company chose men to manage its own commissariat. they received 6 rubles 50 kopecks a month per man from the treasury, and catered for the company. They plantedM
 cabbages, made hay, had their own carts, and prided themselves on their well-fed horses. The company's money was kept in a chest of which the commander had the key, and it often happened that he borrowed from the chest. This had just happened again, and the soldiers were talking about it. The morose soldier, Nikitin, wished to demand an account from the commander, while Panov and Avdeev considered that unnecessary.
After Panov, Nikitin had a smoke, and then spreading his cloak on the ground sat down on it leaniM
ng against the trunk of the plane tree. The soldiers were silent. Far above their heads the crowns of the trees rustled in the wind and suddenly, above this incessant low rustling, rose the howling, whining, weeping and chuckling of jackals.
"Just listen to those accursed creatures -- how they caterwaul!"
"They're laughing at you because your mouth's all on one side," remarked the high voice of the third soldier, an Ukrainian.
All was silent again, except for the wind that swayed the branches, now revealinM
g and now hiding the stars.
"I say, Panov," suddenly asked the cheerful Avdeev, "do you ever feel dull?"
"Dull, why?" replied Panov reluctantly.
"Well, I do....I feel so dull sometimes that I don't know what I might not be ready to do to myself."
"There now!" was all Panov replied.
"That time when I drank all the money it was from dullness. It took hold of me...took hold of me till I thought to myself, 'I'll just get blind drunk!'"
"But sometimes drinking makes it still worse."
pened to me too. But what is a man to do with himself?"
"But what makes you feel so dull?"
"What, me? ... Why, it's the longing for home."
"Is yours a wealthy home then?"
"No; we weren't wealthy, but things went properly -- we lived well." And Avdeev began to relate what he had already told Panov many times.
"You see, I went as a soldier of my own free will, instead of my brother," he said. "He has children. They were five in family and I had only just married. Mother began begging me to go. So I thoM
ught, 'Well, maybe they will remember what I've done.' So I went to our proprietor ... he was a good master and he said, 'You're a fine fellow, go!' So I went instead of my brother."
"Well, that was right," said Panov.
"And yet, will you believe me, Panov, it's chiefly because of that that I feel so dull now? 'Why did you go instead of your brother?' I say to myself. 'He's living like a king now over there, while you have to suffer here;' and the more I think of it the worse I feel. ... It seems just a piece M
"Perhaps we'd better have another smoke," said he after a pause.
"Well then, fix it up!"
But the soldiers were not to have their smoke. Hardly had Avdeev risen to fix the pipe stem in its place when above the rustling of the trees they heard footsteps along the road. Panov took his gun and pushed Nikitin with his foot.
Nikitin rose and picked up his cloak.
The third soldier, Bondarenko, rose also, and said:
"And I have dreamed such a dream, mates...."
aid Avdeev, and the soldiers held their breath, listening. The footsteps of men in soft-soled boots were heard approaching. The fallen leaves and dry twigs could be heard rustling clearer and clearer through the darkness. Then came the peculiar guttural tones of Chechen voices. The soldiers could now not only hear men approaching, but could see two shadows passing through a clear space between the trees; one shadow taller than the other. When these shadows had come in line with the soldiers, Panov, gun in hand, steM
pped out on to the road, followed by his comrades.
"Who goes there?" cried he.
"Me, friendly Chechen," said the shorter one. This was Bata. "Gun, yok!...sword, yok!" said he, pointing to himself. "Prince, want!"
The taller one stood silent beside his comrade. He too was unarmed.
"He means he's a scout, and wants the Colonel," explained Panov to his comrades.
"Prince Vorontsov...much want! Big business!" said Bata.
"All right, all right! We'll take you to him," said Panov. "I say, you'd better takeM
 them," said he to Avdeev, "you and Bondarenko; and when you've given them up to the officer on duty come back again. Mind," he added, "be careful to make them keep in front of you!"
"and what of this?" said Avdeev, moving his gun and bayonet as though stabbing someone. "I's just give a dig, and let the steam out of him!"
"What'll he be worth when you've stuck him?" remarked Bondarenko.
When the steps of the two soldiers conducting the scouts could no longer be heard, Panov and Nikitin retM
urned to their post.
"What the devil brings them here at night?" said Nikitin.
"Seems it's necessary," said panov. "But it's getting chilly," he added, and unrolling his cloak he put it on and sat down by the tree.
About two hours later Avdeev and Bondarenko returned.
"Well, have you handed them over?"
"Yes. They weren't yet asleep at the Colonel's -- they were taken straight in to him. And do you know, mates, those shaven- headed lads are fine!" continued Avdeev. "Yes, really. What a talk I had withM
"Of course you'd talk," remarked Nikitin disapprovingly.
"Really they're just like Russians. One of them is married. 'Molly,' says I, 'bar?' 'Bar,' he says. Bondarenko, didn't I say 'bar'? 'Many bar?' 'A couple,' says he. A couple! Such a good talk we had! Such nice fellows!"
"Nice, indeed!" said Nikitin. "If you met him alone he'd soon let the guts out of you."
"It will be getting light before long." said panov.
"Yes, the stars are beginning to go out," said Avdeev, sitting down and making hM
And the soldiers were silent again.
The windows of the barracks and the soldiers' houses had long been dark in the fort; but there were still lights in the windows of the best house.
In it lived Prince Simon Mikhailovich Vorontsov, Commander of the Kurin Regiment, an Imperial Aide-de-Camp and son of the Commander-in-Chief. Vorontsov's wife, Marya Vasilevna, a famous Petersburg beauty, was with him and they lived in this little Caucasian fort more luxuriously than any one M
had ever lived there before. To Vorontsov, and even more to his wife, it seemed that they were not only living a very modest life, but one full of privations, while to the inhabitants of the place their luxury was surprising and extraordinary.
Just now, at midnight, the host and hostess sat playing cards with their visitors, at a card table lit by four candles, in the spacious drawing room with its carpeted floor and rich curtains drawn across the windows. Vorontsov, who had a long face and wore the insignia andM
 gold cords of an aide-de-camp, was partnered by a shaggy young man of gloomy appearance, a graduate of Petersburg University whom Princess Vorontsov had lately had sent to the Caucasus to be tutor to her little son (born of her first marriage). Against them played two officers: one a broad, red- faced man, Poltoratsky, a company commander who had exchanged out of the Guards; and the other the regimental adjutant, who sat very straight on his chair with a cold expression on his handsome face.
Princess Marya VasiM
levna, a large-built, large-eyed, black- browed beauty, sat beside Poltoratsky -- her crinoline touching his lets -- and looked over his cards. In her words, her looks, her smile, her perfume, and in every movement of her body, there was something that reduced Poltoratsky to obliviousness of everything except the consciousness of her nearness, and he made blunder after blunder, trying his partner's temper more and more.
"No ... that's too bad! You've wasted an ace again," said the regimental adjutant, flushing aM
ll over as Poltoratsky threw out an ace.
Poltoratsky turned his kindly, wide-set black eyes towards the dissatisfied adjutant uncomprehendingly, as though just aroused from sleep.
"Do forgive him!" said Marya Vasilevna, smiling. "There, you see! Didn't I tell you so?" she went on, turning to Poltoratsky.
"But that's not at all what you said," replied Poltoratsky, smiling.
"Wasn't it?" she queried, with an answering smile, which excited and delighted Poltoratsky to such a degree that he blushed crimson aM
nd seeing the cards began to shuffle.
"It isn't your turn to deal," said the adjutant sternly, and with his white ringed hand he began to deal himself, as though he wished to get rid of the cards as quickly as possible.
The prince's valet entered the drawing room and announced that the officer on duty wanted to speak to him.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," said the prince speaking Russian with an English accent. "Will you take my place, marya?"
"Do you all agree?" asked the princess, rising quickly and lightly M
to her full height, rustling her silks, and smiling the radiant smile of a happy woman.
"I always agree to everything," replied the adjutant, very pleased that the princess -- who could not play at all -- was now going to play against him.
Poltoratsky only spread out his hands and smiled.
The rubber was nearly finished when the prince returned to the drawing room, animated and obviously very pleased.
"Do you know what I propose?"
"That we have some champagne."
"I am always ready for thaM
t," said Poltoratsky.
"Why not? We shall be delighted!" said the adjutant.
"Bring some, Vasili!" said the prince.
"What did they want you for?" asked Marya Vasilevna.
"It was the officer on duty and another man."
"Who? What about?" asked Marya Vasilevna quickly.
"I mustn't say," said Vorontsov, shrugging his shoulders.
"You mustn't say!" repeated Marya Vasilevna. "We'll see about that."
When the champagne was brought each of the visitors drank a glass, and having finished the game and settleM
d the scores they began to take their leave.
"Is it your company that's ordered to the forest tomorrow?" the prince asked Poltoratsky as they said goodbye.
"Then we shall meet tomorrow," said the prince, smiling slightly.
"Very pleased," replied Poltoratsky, not quite understanding what Vorontsov was saying to him and preoccupied only by the thought that he would in a minute be pressing Marya Vasilevna's hand.
Marya Vasilevna, according to her wont, not only pressed his hand firmlyM
 but shook it vigorously, and again reminding him of his mistake in playing diamonds, she gave him what he took to be a delightful, affectionate, and meaning smile.
Poltoratsky went home in an ecstatic condition only to be understood by people like himself who, having grown up and been educated in society, meet a woman belonging to their own circle after months of isolated military life, and moreover a woman like Princess Vorontsov.
When he reached the little house in which he and his comrade lived he pushed M
the door, but it was locked. He knocked, with no result. He felt vexed, and began kicking the door and banging it with his sword. Then he heard a sound of footsteps and Vovilo -- a domestic serf of his -- undid the cabin hook which fastened the door.
"What do you mean by locking yourself in, blockhead?"
"But how is it possible, sir...?"
"You're tipsy again! I'll show you 'how it is possible!'" and Poltoratsky was about to strike Vovilo but changed his mind. "Oh, go to the devil! ... Light a candle."
Vovilo was really tipsy. He had been drinking at the name day party of the ordnance sergeant, Ivan Petrovich. On returning home he began comparing his life with that of the latter. Ivan Petrovich had a salary, was married, and hoped in a year's time to get his discharge.
Vovilo had been taken "up" when a boy -- that is, he had been taken into his owner's household service -- and now although he was already over forty he was not married, but lived a campaigning life with his harum-scarum young mastM
er. He was a good master, who seldom struck him, but what kind of a life was it? "He promised to free me when we return from the Caucasus, but where am I to with my freedom? ... It's a dog's life!" thought Vovilo, and he felt so sleepy that, afraid lest someone should come in and steal something, he fastened the hook of the door and fell asleep.
Poltoratsky entered the bedroom which he shared with his comrade Tikhonov.
"Well, have you lost?" asked Tikhonov, waking up.
"No, as it happens, I haveM
n't. I've won seventeen rubles, and we drank a bottle of Cliquot!"
"And you've looked at Marya Vasilevna?"
"Yes, and I have looked at Marya Vasilevna," repeated Poltoratsky.
"It will soon be time to get up," said Tikhonov. "We are to start at six."
"Vovilo!" shouted Poltoratsky, "see that you wake me up properly tomorrow at five!"
"How can I wake you if you fight?"
"I tell you you're to wake me! Do you hear?"
"All right." Vovilo went out, taking Poltoratsky's boots and clothes with him. PoltoraM
tsky got into bed and smoked a cigarette and put out his candle smiling the while. In the dark he saw before him the smiling face of Marya Vasilevna.
The Vorontsovs did not go to bed at once. When the visitors had left, Marya Vasilevna went up to her husband and standing in front of him, said severely --
"Eh bien! vous allez me dire ce que c'est."
"Pas de 'ma chere'! C'etait un emissaire, n'est-ce pas?"
"Quand meme, je ne puis pas vous le dire."
"Vous ne pouvez pas?M
 Alors, c'est moi qui vais vous le dire!"
"It was Hadji Murat, wasn't it?" said Marya Vasilevna, who had for some days past heard of the negotiations and thought that Hadji Murat himself had been to see her husband. Vorontsov could not altogether deny this, but disappointed her by saying that it was not Hadji Murat himself but only an emissary to announce that Hadji Murat would come to meet him next day at the spot where a wood- cutting expedition had been arranged.
In the monotonous life of the foM
rtress the young Vorontsovs -- both husband and wife -- were glad of this occurrence, and it was already past two o'clock when, after speaking of the pleasure the news would give his father, they went to bed.
After the three sleepless nights he had passed flying from the murids Shamil had sent to capture him, Hadji Murat fell asleep as soon as Sado, having bid him goodnight, had gone out of the saklya.
He slept fully dressed with his head on his hand, his elbow sinking deep into the red down-cuM
shions his host had arranged for him.
At a little distance, by the wall, slept Eldar. He lay on his back, his strong young limbs stretched out so that his high chest, with the black cartridge-pouches sewn into the front of his white Circassian coat, was higher than his freshly shaven, blue-gleaming head, which had rolled off the pillow and was thrown back. His upper lip, on which a little soft down was just appearing, pouted like a child's, now contracting and now expanding, as though he were sipping something. M
Like Hadji Murat he slept with pistol and dagger in his belt. the sticks in the grate burnt low, and a night light in a niche in the wall gleamed faintly.
In the middle of the night the floor of the guest-chamber creaked, and Hadji Murat immediately rose, putting his hand to his pistol. Sado entered, treading softly on the earthen floor.
"What is it?" asked Hadji Murat, as if he had not been asleep at all.
"We must think," replied Sado, squatting down in front of him.
"A woman from her roof saw you arriM
ve and told her husband, and now the whole aoul knows. A neighbor has just been to tell my wife that the Elders have assembled in the mosque and want to detain you."
"I must be off!" said Hadji Murat.
"The horses are saddled," said Sado, quickly leaving the saklya.
"Eldar!" whispered Hadji Murat. And Eldar, hearing his name, and above all his master's voice, leaped to his feet, setting his cap straight as he did so.
Hadji Murat put on his weapons and then his burka. Eldar did the same, and they both wenM
t silently out of the saklya into the penthouse. The black-eyed boy brought their horses. Hearing the clatter of hoofs on the hard-beaten road, someone stuck his head out of the door of a neighboring saklya and a man ran up the hill towards the mosque, clattering with his wooden shoes. There was no moon, but the stars shone brightly in the black sky so that the outlines of the saklya roofs could be seen in the darkness, the mosque with its minarets in the upper part of the village rising above the other buildings. M
From the mosque came a hum of voices.
quickly seizing his gun, Hadji Murat placed his foot in the narrow stirrup, and silently and easily throwing his body across, swung himself onto the high cushion of the saddle.
"May God reward you!" he said, addressing his host while his right foot felt instinctively for the stirrup, and with his whip he lightly touched the lad who held his horse, as a sign that he should let go. The boy stepped aside, and the horse, as if it knew what it had to do, started at a brisk pacM
e down the lane towards the principal street. Eldar rode behind him. Sado in his sheepskin followed, almost running, swinging his arms and crossing now to one side and now to the other of the narrow sidestreet. At the place where the streets met, first one moving shadow and then another appeared in the road.
"Stop...who's that? Stop!" shouted a voice, and several men blocked the path.
Instead of stopping, Hadji Murat drew his pistol from his belt and increasing his speed rode straight at those who blocked theM
 way. They separated, and without looking round he started down the road at a swift canter. Eldar followed him at a sharp trot. Two shots cracked behind them and two bullets whistled past without hitting either Hadji Murat or Eldar. Hadji Murat continued riding at the same pace, but having gone some three hundred yards he stopped his slightly panting horse and listened.
In front of him, lower down, gurgled rapidly running water. Behind him in the aoul cocks crowed, answering one another. Above these sounds he heM
ard behind him the approaching tramp of horses and the voices of several men. Hadji Murat touched his horse and rode on at an even pace. Those behind him galloped and soon overtook him. They were some twenty mounted men, inhabitants of the aoul, who had decided to detain Hadji Murat or a least to make a show of detaining him in order to justify themselves in Shamil's eyes. When they came near enough to be seen in the darkness, Hadji Murat stopped, let go his bridle, and with an accustomed movement of his bridle, anM
d with an accustomed movement of his left hand unbuttoned the cover of his rifle, which he drew forth with his right. Eldar did the same.
"What do you want?" cried Hadji Murat. "Do you wish to take me?...Take me, then!" and he raised his rifle. The men form the aoul stopped, and Hadji Murat, rifle in hand, rode down into the ravine. the mounted men followed him but did not draw any nearer. When Hadji Murat had crossed to the other side of the ravine the men shouted to him that he should hear what they had to sayM
. In reply he fired his rifle and put his horse to a gallop. When he reined it in his pursuers were no longer within hearing and the crowing of the cocks could also no longer be heard; only the murmur of the water in the forest sounded more distinctly and now and then came the cry of an owl. The black wall of the forest appeared quite close. It was in the forest that his murids awaited him.
On reaching it Hadji Murat paused, and drawing much air into his lungs he whistled and then listened silently. the next minM
ute he was answered by a similar whistle from the forest. Hadji Murat turned from the road and entered it. When he had gone about a hundred paces he saw among the trunks of the trees a bonfire, the shadows of some men sitting round it, and, half lit-up by the firelight, a hobbled horse which was saddled. Four men were sitting by the fire.
One of them rose quickly, and coming up to Hadji Murat took hold of his bridle and stirrup. This was Hadji Murat's sworn brother who managed his household affairs for him.
Put out the fire," said Hadji Murat, dismounting.
The men began scattering the pile and trampling on the burning branches.
"Has Bata been here?" asked Hadji Murat, moving towards a burka that was spread on the ground.
"Yes, he went away long ago with Khan Mahoma."
"Which way did they go?"
"That way," answered Khanefi pointing in the opposite direction to that from which Hadji Murat had come.
"All right," said Hadji Murat, and unslinging his rifle he began to load it.
"We must take care -- I havM
e been pursued," he said to a man who was putting out the fire.
This was Gamzalo, a Chechen. Gamzalo approached the barka, took up a rifle that lay on it wrapped in its cover, and without a word went to that side of the glade from which Hadji Murat had come.
When Eldar had dismounted he took Hadji Murat's horse, and having reined up both horses's heads high, tied them to two trees. Then he shouldered his rifle as Gamzalo had done and went to the other side of the glade. The bonfire was extinguished, the foresM
t no longer looked as black as before, but in the sky the stars still shone, thought faintly.
Lifting his eyes to the stars and seeing that the Pleiades had already risen half-way up in the sky, Hadji Murat calculated that it must be long past midnight and that his nightly prayer was long overdue. He asked Khanefi for a ewer (they always carried one in their packs), and putting on his barka went to the water.
Having taken off his shoes and performed his ablutions, Hadji Murat stepped onto the burka with bare M
feet and then squatted down on his calves, and having first placed his fingers in his ears and closed his eyes, he turned to the south and recited the usual prayer.
When he had finished he returned to the place where the saddle bags lay, and sitting down on the burka he leant his elbows on his knees and bowed his head and fell into deep thought.
Hadji Murat always had great faith in his own fortune. When planning anything he always felt in advance firmly convinced of success, and fate smiled on him. It had beM
en so, with a few rare exceptions, during the whole course of his stormy militray life; and so he hoped it would be now. He pictured to himself how -- with the army vorontsov would place at his disposal -- he would march against Shamil and take him prisoner, and revenge himself on him; and how the russian Czar would reward him and how he would again rule not only over Avaria, but over the whole of Chechnya, which would submit to him. With these thoughts he unwittingly fell asleep.
He dreamed how he and his braveM
 followers rushed at Shamil with songs and with the cry, "Hadji Murat is coming!" and how they seized him and his wifes and how he heard the wives crying and sobbing. He woke up. The song, Lya-il-allysha, and the cry "Hadji Murat is coming!" and the weeping of shamil's wives, was the howling, weeping and laughter of jackals that awoke him. Hadji Murat lifted his head, glanced at the sky which, seen between the trunks of the trees, was already growing light in the east and inquired after Khan Mahoma of a murid who sM
at at some distance from him. On hearing that Khan Mahoma had not yet returned, Hadji Murat again bowed his head and at once fell asleep.
He was awakened by the merry voice of Khan Mahoma returning from his mission with Bata. Khan Mahoma at once sat down beside Hadji Murat and told him how the soldiers had met them and had led them to the prince himself, and how pleased the prince was and how he promised to meet them in the morning where the Russians would be felling trees beyond the Mitchik in the Shalin glade.M
 Bata interrupted his fellow-envoy to add details of his own.
Hadji Murat asked particularly for the words with which Vorontsov had answered his offer to go over to the russians, and Khan Mahoma and Bata replied with one voice that the prince promised to receive Hadji Murat as a guest, and to act so that it should be well for him.
Then Hadji Murat questioned them about the road, and when Khan Mahoma assured him that he knew the way well and would conduct him straight to the spot, Hadji Murat took out some monM
ey and gave Bata the promised three rubles. Then he ordered his men to take out of the saddle bags his gold-ornamented weapons and his turban, and to clean themselves up so as to look well when they arrived among the Russians.
While they cleaned their weapons, harness, and horses, the stars faded away, it became quite light, and an early morning breeze sprang up.
Early in the morning, while it was still dark, two companies carrying axes and commanded by Poltoratsky marched six miles beyond the M
Shagirinsk Gate, and having thrown out a line of sharpshooters set to work to fell trees as soon as the day broke. Towards eight o'clock the mist which had mingled with the perfumed smoke of the hissing and crackling damp green branches on the bonfires began to rise and the wood-fellers -- who till then had not seen five paces off but had only heard one another -- began to see both the bonfires and the road through the forest, blocked with falled trees. The sun now appeared like a bright spot in the fog and now agaM
In the glade, some way from the road, Poltoratsky, his subaltern Tikhonov, two officers of the Third Company, and Baron Freze, an ex-officer of the Guards and a fellow student of Poltoratsky at the Cadet College, who had been reduced to the ranks for fighting a duel, were sitting on drums. Bits of paper that had contained food, cigarette stumps, and empty bottles, lat scattered around them. The officers had had some vodka and were now eating, and drinking porter. A drummer was uncorking their thirM
Poltoratsky, although he had not had enough sleep, was in that peculiar state of elation and kindly careless gaiety which he always felt when he found himself among his soldiers and with his comrades where there was a possibility of danger.
The officers were carrying on an animated conversation, the subject of which was the latest news: the death of General Sletpsov. None of them saw in this death that most important moment of a life, its termination and return to the source when it sprang -- they sM
aw in it only the valor of a gallant officer who rushed at the mountaineers sword in hand and hacked them desperately.
Though all of them -- and especially those who had been in action -- knew and could not help knowing that in those days in the Caucasus, and in fact anywhere and at any time, such hand-to- hand hacking as is always imagined and described never occurs (or if hacking with swords and bayonets ever does occur, it is only those who are running away that get hacked), that fiction of hand- to-hand fighM
ting endowed them with the calm pride and cheerfulness with which they say on the drums -- some with a jaunty air, others on the contrary in a very modest pose, and drank and joked without troubling about death, which might overtake them at any moment as it had overtaken Sleptsov. And in the midst of their talk, as if to confirm their expectations, they heard to the left of the road the pleasant stirring sound of a rifle shot; and a bullet, merrily whistling somewhere in the misty air, flew past and crashed into a M
"Hullo!" exclaimed Poltoratsky in a merry voice; "Why that's at our line. ... There now, Kostya," and he turned to Freze, "now's your chance. Go back to the company. I will lead the whole company to support the cordon and we'll arrange a battle that will be simply delightful ... and then we'll make a report."
Freze jumped to his feet and went at a quick pace towards the smoke-enveloped spot where he had left his company.
Poltoratsky's little Kabarda dapple-bay was brought to him, and he mounted and dM
rew up his company and led it in the direction whence the shots were fired. The outposts stood on the skirts of the forest in front of the bare descending slope of a ravine. The wind was blowing in the direction of the forest, and not only was it possible to see the slope of the ravine, but the opposite side of it was also distinctly visible. When Poltoratsky rode up to the line the sun came out from behind the mist, and on the other side of the ravine, by the outskirts of a young forest, a few horsemen could be seM
en at a distance of a quarter of a mile. These were the Chechens who had pursued Hadji Murat and wanted to see him meet the Russians. One of them fired at the line. Several soldiers fired back. The Chechens retreated and the firing ceased.
But when Poltoratsky and his company came up he nevertheles gave orders to fire, and scarcely had the word been passed than along the whole line of sharpshooters the incessant, merry, stirring rattle of our rifles began, acompanied by pretty dissolving cloudlets of smoke. The M
soldiers, pleased to have some distraction, hastened to load and fired shot after shot. The Chechens evidently caught the feeling of excitement, and leaping forward one after another fired a few shots at our men. One of these shots wounded a soldier. It was the same Avdeev who had lain in ambush the night before.
When his comrades approached him he was lying prone, holding his wounded stomach with both hands, and rocking himself with a rhythmic motion moaned softly. He belonged to Poltoratsky's company, and PoltM
oratsky, seeing a group of soldiers collected, rode up to them.
"What is it, lad? Been hit?" said Poltoratsky. "Where?"
Avdeev did not answer.
"I was just going to load, your honor, when I heard a click," said a soldier who had been with Avdeef; "and I look and see he's dropped his gun."
"Tut, tut, tut!" Poltoratsky clicked his tongue. "Does it hurt much, Avdeev?"
"It doesn't hurt but it stops me walking. A dropu of vodka now, your honor!"
Some vodka (or rather the spirit drunk by the soldiers in M
the Caucasus) was found, and Panov, severely frowning, brought Avdeev a can-lid full. Avdeev tried to drink it but immediately handed back the lid.
"My soul truns against it," he said. "Drink it yourself."
Panov drank up the spirit.
Avdeev raised himself but sank back at once. They spread out a cloak and laid him on it.
"Your honor, the colonel is coming," said the sergeant-major to Poltoratsky.
"All right. then will you see to him?" said Poltoratsky, and flourishing his whip he rode at a fast trot tM
Vorontsov was riding his thoroughbred English chestnut gelding, and was accompanied by the adjutant, a Cossack, and a Chechen interpreter.
"What's happening here?" asked Vorontsov.
"Why, a skirmishing party attacked our advanced line," Poltoratsky answered.
"Come, come -- you arranged the whole thing yourself!"
"Oh no, Prince, not I," said Poltoratsky with a smile; "they pushed forward of their own accord."
"I hear a soldier has been wounded?"
"Yes, it's a great pity. He's a gM
"Seriously, I believe ... in the stomach."
"And do you know where I am going?" vorontsov asked.
"Hadji Murat has surrendered and we are now going to meet him."
"You don't mean to say so?"
"His envoy came to me yesterday," said Vorontsov, with difficulty repressing a smile of pleasure. "He will be waiting for me at the Shalin glade in a few minutes. Place sharpshooters as far as the glade, and then come and join me."
rstand," said Poltoratsky, lifting his hand to his cap, and rode back to his company. He led the sharp shooters to the right himself, and ordered the seargeant-major to do the same on the left side.
The wounded Avdeev had meanwhile been taken back to the fort by some of the soldiers.
On his way back to rejoin vorontsov, Poltoratsky noticed behind him several horsemen who were overtaking him. In front on a white-maned horse rode a man of imposing appearance. He wore a turban and carried weapons with gold ornamM
ents. This man was Hadji Murat. He approached Poltoratsky and said something to him in Tartar. Raising his eyebrows, Poltoratsky made a gesture with his arms to show that he did not understand, and smiled. Hadji Murat gave him smile for smile, and that smile struck Poltoratsky by its childlike kindliness. Poltoratsky had never expected to see the terrible mountain chief look like that. He had expected to see a morose, hard-featured man, and here was a vivacious person whose smile was so kindly that Poltoratsky feltM
 as if he were an old acquaintance. He had only one peculiarity: his eyes, set wide apart, which gazed from under their black brows calmly, attentively, and penetratingly into the eyes of others.
Hadji Murat's suit consisted of five men, among them was Khan Mahoma, who had been to see Prince Vorontsov that night. He was a rosy, round-faced fellow with black lashless eyes and a beaming expression, full of the joy of life. Then there was the Avar Khanefi, a thick-set, hairy man, whose eyebrows met. He was in chargM
e of all Hadji Murat's property and led a stud-bred horse which carried tightly packed saddle bags. Two men of the suite were particularly striking. The first was a Lesghian: a youth, broad-shouldered but with a waist as slim as a woman's, beautiful ram-like eyes, and the beginnings of a brown beard. This was Eldar. The other, Gamzalo, was a Chechen with a short red beard and no eyebrows or eyelashes; he was blind in one eye and had a scar across his nose and face. Poltoratsky pointed out Vorontsov, who had just apM
peared on the road. Hadji Murat rode to meet him, and putting his right hand on his heart said something in Tartar and stopped. The Chechen interpreter translated.
"He says, 'I surrender myself to the will of the Russian Czar.
I wish to serve him,' he says.  'I wished to so do long ago but Shamil would not let me.'"
Having heard what the interpreter said, Vorontsov stretched out his hand in its wash-leather glove to Hadji Murat. Hadji Murat looked at it hestitatingly for a moment and then pressed it firmlyM
, again saying something and looking first at the interpreter and then at Vorontsov.
"He says he did not wish to surrender to any one but you, as you are the son of the Sirdar and he respects you much."
Vorontsov nodded to express his thanks. Hadji Murat again said something, pointing to his suite.
"He says that these men, his henchmen, will serve the Russians as well as he."
Vorontsov turned towards then and nodded to them too. The merry, black-eyed, lashless Chechen, Khan Mahoma, also nodded and said M
something which was probably amusing, for the hairy Avar drew his lips into a smile, showing his ivory-white teeth. But the red- haired Gamzalo's one red eye just glanced at Vorontsov and then was again fixed on the ears of his horse.
When Vorontsov and Hadji Murat with their retinues rode back to the fort the soldiers released form the lines gathered in groups and made their own comments.
"What a lot of men that damned fellow has destroyed! And now see what a fuss they will make of him!"
s Shamil's right hand, and now -- no fear!"
"Still there's no denying it! he's a fine fellow -- a regular dzhigit!"
"And the red one! He squints at you like a beast!"
"Ugh! He must be a hound!"
They had all specially noticed the red one. Where the wood- felling was going on the soldiers nearest to the road ran out to look. Their officer shouted to them, but Vorontsov stopped him.
"Let them have a look at their old friend."
"You know who that is?" he added, turning to the nearest soldier, and speakM
ing the words slowly with his English accent.
"No, your Excellency."
"Hadji Murat. ... Heard of him?"
"How could we help it, your Excellency? We've beaten him many a time!"
"Yes, and we've had it hot from him too."
"Yes, that's true, your Excellency," answered the soldier, pleased to be talking with his chief.
Hadji Murat understood that they were speaking about him, and smiled brightly with his eyes.
Vornotsov returned to the fort in a very cheerful mood.
Young Vorontsov was M
much pleased that it was he, and no one else, who had succeeded in winning over and receiving Hadji Murat -- next to Shamil Russia's chief and most active enemy. There was only one unpleasant thing about it: General Meller- Zakomelsky was in command of the army at Vozdvizhenski, and the whole affair ought to have been carried out through him. As Vorontsov had done everything himself without reporting it there might be some unpleasantness, and this thought rather interfered with his satisfaction. On reaching his houM
se he entrusted Hadji Murat's henchmen to the regimental adjutant and himself showed Hadji Murat into the house.
Princess Marya Vasilevna, elegantly dressed and smiling, and her little son, a handsome curly-headed child of six, met Hadji Murat in the drawing room. The latter placed his hands on his heart, and through the interpreter -- who had entered with him -- said with solemnity that he regarded himself as the prince's kunak, since the prince had brought him into his own house; and that a kunak's whole familM
y was as sacred as the kunak himself.
Hadji Murat's appearance and manners pleased Marya Vasilevna, and the fact that he flushed when she held out her large white hand to him inclined her still more in his favor. She invited him to sit down, and having asked him whether he drank coffee, had some served. He, however, declined it when it came. He understood a little Russian but could not speak it. When something was said which he could not understand he smiled, and his smile pleased Marya Vasilevna just as it had M
pleased Poltoratsky. The curly-haired, keen-eyed little boy (whom his mother called Bulka) standing beside her did not take his eyes off Hadji Murat, whom he had always heard spoken of as a great warrior.
Leaving Hadji Murat with his wife, Vorontsov went to his office to do what was necessary about reporting the fact of Hadji Murat's having cove over to the Russians. When he had written a report to the general in command of the left flank -- General Kozlovsky -- at Grozny, and a letter to his father, Vorontsov hM
urried home, afraid that his wife might be vexed with him for forcing on her this terrible stranger, who had to be treated in such a way that he should not take offense, and yet not too kindly. But his fears were needless. Hadji Murat was sitting in an armchair with little Bulka, Vorontsov's stepson, on his knee, and with bent head was listening attentively to the interpreter who was translating to him the words of the laughing marya Vasilevna. Marya Vasilevna was telling him that if every time a kunak admired anytM
hing of his he made him a present of it, he would soon have to go about like Adam. ...
When the prince entered, Hadji Murat rose at once and, surprising and offending Bulka by putting him off his knee, changed the playful expression of his face to a stern and serious one. He only sat down again when Vorontsov had himself taken a seat.
Continuing the conversation he answered Marya Vasilevna by telling her that it was a law among his people that anything your kunak admired must be presented to him.
 kunak?" he said in Russian, patting the curly head of the boy who had again climbed on his knee.
"He is delightful, your brigand!" said Marya Vasilevna to her husband in french. "Bulka has been admiring his dagger, and he has given it to him."
Bulka showed the dagger to his father. "C'est un objet de prix!" added she.
"Il faudra trouver l'occasion de lui faire cadeau," said Vorontsov.
Hadji Murat, his eyes turned down, sat stroking the boy's curly hair and saying: "Dzhigit, dzhigit!"
eautiful dagger," said Vorontsov, half drawing out the sharpened blade which had a ridge down the center. "I thank thee!"
"Ask him what I can do for him," he said to the interpreter.
The interpreter translated, and Hadji Murat at once replied that he wanted nothing but that he begged to be taken to a place where he could say his prayers.
Vorontsov called his valet and told him to do what Hadji Murat desired.
As soon as Hadji Murat was alone in the room allotted to him his face altered. The pleased expreM
ssion, now kindly and now stately, vanished, and a look of anxiety showed itself. Vorontsov had received him far better than Hadji Murat had expected. But the better the reception the less did Hadji Murat trust Vorontsov and his officers. He feared everything: that he might be seized, chained, and sent to Siberia, or simply killed; and therefore he was on his guard. He asked Eldar, when the latter entered his room, where his murids had been put and whether their arms had been taken from them, and where the horses wM
ere. Eldar reported that the horses were in the prince's stables; that the men had been placed in a barn; that they retained their arms, and that the interpreter was giving them food and tea.
Hadji Murat shook his head in doubt, and after undressing said his prayers and told Eldar to bring him his silver dagger. He then dressed, and having fastened his belt, sat down on the divan with his legs tucked under him, to await what might befall him.
At four in the afternoon the interpreter came to call him to dine wM
At dinner he hardly ate anything except some pilaf, to which he helped himself from the very part of the dish from which Marya Vasilevna had helped herself.
"He is afraid we shall poison him," Marya Vasilevna remarked to her husband. "He has helped himself from the place where I took my helping." Then instantly turning to Hadji Murat she asked him through the interpreter when he would pray again. Hadji Murat lifted five fingers and pointed to the sun. "Then it will soon be time," and VorontsovM
 drew out his watch and pressed a spring. The watch struck four and one quarter. This evidently surprised Hadji Murat, and he asked to hear it again and to be allowed to look at the watch.
"Voila l'occasion! Donnez-lui la montre," said the princess to her husband.
Vorontsov at once offered the watch to Hadji Murat.
The latter placed his hand on his breast and took the watch. He touched the spring several times, listened, and nodded his head approvingly.
After dinner, Meller-Zakomelsky's aide-de-camp wasM
The aide-de-camp informed the prince that the general, having heard of Hadji Murat's arrival, was highly displeased that this had not been reported to him, and required Hadji Murat to be brought to him without delay. Vorontsov replied that the general's command should be obeyed, and through the interpreter informed Hadji Murat of these orders and asked him to go to Meller with him.
When Marya Vasilevna heard what the aide-de-camp had come about, she at once understood that unpleasantness might ariM
se between her husband and the general, and in spite of all her husband's attempts to dissuade her, decided to go with him and Hadji Murat.
"Vous feriez blen mieux de rester -- c'est mon affaire, non pas la votre. ..."
"Vous ne pouvez pas m'empecher d'aller voir madame la generale!"
"You could go some other time."
"But I wish to go now!"
There was no help for it, so Vorontsov agreed, and they all three went.
When they entered, Meller with somber politeness conducted Marya Vasilevna to his wife andM
 told his aide-de-camp to show Hadji Murat to the waiting room and not let him out till further orders.
"Please..." he said to Vorontsov, opening the door of his study and letting the prince enter before him.
Having entered the study he stopped in front of Vorontsov and, without offering him a seat, said:
"I am in command here and therefore all negotiations with the enemy have to be carried on through me! Why did you not report to me that Hadji Murat had come over?"
"An emissary came to me and announcedM
 his wish to capitulate only to me," replied Vorontsov growing pale with excitement, expecting some rude expression from the angry general and at the same time becoming infected with his anger.
"I ask you why was I not informed?"
"I intended to inform you, Baron, but..."
"You are not to address me as 'Baron,' but as 'Your Excellency'!" And here the baron's pent-up irritation suddenly broke out and he uttered all that had long been boiling in his soul.
"I have not served my sovereign twenty-seven years iM
n order that men who began their service yesterday, relying on family connections, should give orders under my very nose about matters that do not concern them!"
"Your Excellency, I request you not to say things that are incorrect!" interrupted Vorontsov.
"I am saying what is correct, and I won't allow..." said the general, still more irritably.
But at that moment Marya Vasilevna entered, rustling with her skirts and followed by a model-looking little lady, Meller- Zakomelsky's wife.
"Come, come, Baron!M
 Simon did not wish to displease you," began Marya Vasilevna.
"I am not speaking about that, Princess. ..."
"Well, well, let's forget it all!... You know, 'A bad peace is better than a good quarrel!' ... Oh dear, what am I saying?" and she laughed.
The angry general capitulated to the enchanting laugh of the beauty. A smile hovered under his mustache.
"I confess I was wrong," said Vorontsov, "but--"
"And I too got rather carried away," said Meller, and held out his hand to the prince.
established, and it was decided to leave Hadji Murat with the general for the present, and then to send him to the commander of the left flank.
Hadji Murat sat in the next room and though he did not understand what was said, he understood what it was necessary for him to understand -- namely, that they were quarreling about him, that his desertion of Shamil was a matter of immense importance to the Russians, and that therefore not only would they not exile or kill him, but that he would be able to demand much frM
om them. He also understood that though Meller-Zakomelsky was the commanding officer, he had not as much influence as his subordinate Vorontsov, and that Vorontsov was important and Meller-Zakomelsky unimportant; and therefore when Meller- Zakomelsky sent for him and began to question him, Hadji Murat bore himself proudly and ceremoniously, saying that he had come from the mountains to serve the White Czar and would give account only to his Sirdar, meaning the commander-in-chief, Prince Vorontsov senior, in Tiflis.M
The wounded Avdeev was taken to the hospital -- a small wooden building roofed with boards at the entrance of the fort -- and was placed on one of the empty beds in the common ward. There were four patients in the ward: one ill with typhus and in high fever; another, pale, with dark shadows under his eyes, who had ague, was just expecting attack and yawned continually; and two more who had been wounded in a raid three weeks before: one in the hand -- he was up -- and the other in the shoulder. ThM
e latter was sitting on a bed. All of them except the typhus patient surrounded and questioned the newcomer and those who had brought him.
"Sometimes they fire as if they were spilling peas over you, and nothing happens ... and this time only about five shots were fired," related one of the bearers.
"Each man get what fate sends!"
"Oh!" groaned Avdeev loudly, trying to master his pain when they began to place him on the bed; but he stopped groaning when he was on it, and only frowned and moved his feet conM
tinually. He held his hands over his wound and looked fixedly before him.
The doctor came, and gave orders to turn the wounded man over to see whether the bullet had passed out behind.
"What's this?" the doctor asked, pointing to the large white scars that crossed one another on the patient's back and loins.
"That was done long ago, your honor!" replied Avdeev with a groan.
They were scars left by the flogging Avdeev had received for the money he drank.
Avdeev was again turned over, and the doctor prM
obed in his stomach for a long time and found the bullet, but failed to extract it. He put a dressing on the wound, and having stuck plaster over it went away. During the whole time the doctor was probing and bandaging the wound Avdeev lay with clenched teeth and closed eyes, but when the doctor had gone he opened them and looked around as though amazed. His eyes were turned on the other patients and on the surgeon's orderly, though he seemed to see not them but something else that surprised him.
ov and Serogin came in, but Avdeev continued to lie in the same position looking before him with surprise. It was long before he recognized his comrades, though his eyes gazed straight at them.
"I say, Peter, have you no message to send home?" said Panov.
Avdeev did not answer, though he was looking Panov in the face.
"I say, haven't you any orders to send home?" again repeated Panov, touching Avdeev's cold, large-boned hand.
Avdeev seemed to come to.
"Yes, I'm here. ... I've comeM
! Have you nothing for home? Serogin would write a letter."
"Serogin ... " said Avdeev moving his eyes with difficulty towards Serogin, "will you write? ... Well then, wrote so: 'Your son,' say 'Peter, has given orders that you should live long. He envied his brother' ... I told you about that today ... ' and now he is himself glad. Don't worry him. ... Let him live. God grant it him. I am glad!' Write that."
Having said this he was silent for some time with his eyes fixed on Panov.
"And did you find your M
pipe?" he suddenly asked.
Panov did not reply.
"Your pipe ... your pipe! I mean, have you found it?" Avdeev repeated.
"That's right! ... Well, and now give me a candle to hold ... I am going to die," said Avdeev.
Just then Poltoratsky came in to inquire after his soldier.
"How goes it, my lad! Badly?" said he.
Avdeev closed his eyes and shook his head negatively. His broad-cheeked face was pale and stern. He did not reply, but again said to Panov:
"Bring a candle. ... I aM
A wax taper was placed in his hand but his fingers would not bend, so it was placed between them and held up for him.
Poltoratsky went away, and five minutes later the orderly put his ear to Avdeev's heart and said that all was over.
Avdeev's death was described in the following manner in the report sent to Tiflis:
"23rd Nov. -- Two companies of the Kurin regiment advanced from the fort on a wood-felling expedition. At mid-day a considerable number of mountaineers suddenly attacked the M
wood- fellers. The sharpshooters began to retreat, but the 2nd Company charged with the bayonet and overthrew the mountaineers. In this affair two privates were slightly wounded and one killed. The mountaineers lost about a hundred men killed and wounded."
On the day Peter Avdeev died in the hospital at Vozdvizhensk, his old father with the wife of the brother in whose stead he had enlisted, and that brother's daughter -- who was already approaching womanhood and almost of age to get married -- weM
re threshing oats on the hard-frozen threshing floor.
There had been a heavy fall of snow the previous night followed towards morning by a severe front. The old man woke when the cocks were crowing for the third time, and seeing the bright moonlight through the frozen windowpanes got down from the stove, put on his boots, his sheepskin coat and cap, and went out to the threshing floor. Having worked there for a couple of hours he returned to the hut and awoke his son and the women. When the woman and girl came tM
o the threshing floor they found it ready swept, with a wooden shovel sticking in the dry white snow, beside which were birch brooms with the twigs upwards and two rows of oat sheaves laid ears to ears in a long line the whole length of the clean threshing floor. They chose their flails and started threshing, keeping time with their triple blows. The old man struck powerfully with his heavy flail, breaking the straw, the girl struck the ears from above with measured blows, and the daughter-in-law turned the oats ovM
The moon had set, dawn was breaking, and they were finishing the line of sheaves when Akim, the eldest son, in his sheepskin and cap, joined the threshers.
"What are you lazing about for?" shouted his father to him, pausing in his work and leaning on his flail.
"The horses had to be seen to."
"'Horses seen to!'" the father repeated, mimicking him. "The old woman will look after them. ... Take your flail! You're getting too fat, you drunkard!"
"Have you been standing me treat?" muttM
"What?" said the old man, frowning sternly and missing a stroke.
The son silently took a flail and they began threshing with four flails.
"Trak, tapatam...trak, tapatam...trak ..." came down the old man's heavy flail after the three others.
"Why, you've got a nape like a goodly gentleman! ... Look here, my trousers have hardly anything to hand on!" said the old man, omitting his stroke and only swinging his flail in the air so as not to get out of time.
They had finished the row, and thM
e women began removing the straw with rakes.
"Peter was a fool to go in your stead. They'd have knocked the nonsense out of you in the army, and he was worth five of such as you at home!"
"That's enough, father," said the daughter-in-law, as she threw aside the binders that had come off the sheaves.
"Yes, feed the six of you and get no work out of a single one! Peter used to work for two. He was not like ..."
Along the trodden path from the house came the old man's wife, the frozen snow creaking under tM
he new bark shoes she wore over her tightly wound woolen leg-bands. The men were shoveling the unwinnowed grain into heaps, the woman and the girl sweeping up what remained.
The Elder has been and orders everybody to go and work for the master, carting bricks," said the old woman. "I've got breakfast ready. ... Come along, won't you?"
"All right. ... Harness the roan and go," said the old man to Akim, "and you'd better look out that you don't get me into trouble as you did the other day! ... I can't help regrM
"When he was at home you used to scold him," retorted Akim. "Now he's away you keep nagging at me."
"That shows you deserve it," said his mother in the same angry tones. "You'll never be Peter's equal."
"Oh, all right," said the son.
"'All right,' indeed! You've drunk the meal, and now you say 'all right!'"
"Let bygones be bygones!" said the daughter-in-law.
The disagreements between father and son had begun long ago -- almost from the time Peter went as a soldier. Even then the oldM
 man felt that he had parted with an eagle for a cuckoo. It is true that it was right -- as the old man understood it -- for a childless man to go in place of a family man. Akin had four children and Peter had none; but Peter was a worker like his father, skillful, observant, strong, enduring, and above all industrious. He was always at work. If he happened to pass by where people were working he lent a helping hand as his father would have done, and took a turn or two with the scythe, or loaded a cart, or felled aM
 tree, or chopped some wood. The old man regretted his going away, but there was no help for it. Conscription in those days was like death. A soldier was a severed branch, and to think about him at home was to tear one's heart uselessly. Only occasionally, to prick his elder son, did the father mention him, as he had done that day. But his mother often thought of her younger son, and for a long time -- more than a year now -- she had been asking her husband to send Peter a little money, but the old man had made no M
The Kurenkovs were a well-to-do family and the old man had some savings hidden away, but he would on no account have consented to touch what he had laid by. Now however the old woman having heard him mention their younger son, made up her mind to ask him again to send him at least a ruble after selling the oats. This she did. As soon as the young people had gone to work for the proprietor and the old folks were left alone together, she persuaded him to send Peter a ruble out of the oats-money.
en ninety-six bushels of the winnowed oats had been packed onto three sledges lined with sacking carefully pinned together at the top with wooden skewers, she gave her husband a letter the church clerk had written at her dictation, and the old man promised when he got to town to enclose a ruble and send it off to the right address.
The old man, dressed in a new sheepskin with homespun cloak over it, his legs wrapped round with warm white woolen leg- bands, took the letter, placed it in his wallet, said a prayer,M
 got into the front sledge, and drove to town. His grandson drove in the last sledge. When he reached town the old man asked the innkeeper to read the letter to him, and listened to it attentively and approvingly.
In her letter Peter's mother first sent him her blessing, then greetings from everybody and the news of his godfather's death, and at the end she added that Aksinya (Peter's wife) had not wished to stay with them but had gone into service, where they heard she was living honestly and well. Then came a M
reference to the present of a ruble, and finally a message which the old woman, yielding to her sorrows, had dictated with tears in her eyes and the church clerk had taken down exactly, word for word:
"One thing more, my darling child, my sweet dove, my own Peterkin! I have wept my eyes out lamenting for thee, thou light of my eyes. To whom has thou left me?..." At this point the old woman had sobbed and wept, and said: "That will do!" So the words stood in the letter; but it was not fated that Peter should receM
ive the news of his wife's having left home, nor the present of the ruble, nor his mother's last words. The letter with the money in it came back with the announcement that Peter had been killed in the war, "defending his Czar, his Fatherland, and the Orthodox Faith." That is how the army clerk expressed it.
The old woman, when this news reached her, wept for as long as she could spare time, and then set to work again. The very next Sunday she went to church and had a requiem chanted and Peter's name entered amoM
ng those for whose souls prayers were to be said, and she distributed bits of holy bread to all the good people in memory of Peter, the servant of God.
Aksinya, his widow, also lamented loudly when she heard of the death of her beloved husband with whom she had lived but one short year. She regretted her husband and her own ruined life, and in her lamentations mentioned Peter's brown locks and his love, and the sadness of her life with her little orphaned Vanka, and bitterly reproached Peter for having had pity M
on his brother but none on her -- obliged to wander among strangers!
But in the depth of her soul Aksinya was glad of her husband's death. She was pregnant a second time by the shopman with whom she was living, and no one would now have a right to scold her, and the shopman could marry her as he had said he would when he was persuading her to yield.
Michael Semenovich Vorontsov, being the son of the Russian Ambassador, had been educated in England and possessed a European education quite exceptM
ional among the higher Russian officials of his day. He was ambitious, gentle and kind in his manner with inferiors, and a finished courtier with superiors. He did not understand life without power and submission. He had obtained all the highest ranks and decorations and was looked upon as a clever commander, and even as the conqueror of Napoleon at Krasnoe.
In 1852 he was over seventy, but young for his age, he moved briskly, and above all was in full possession of a facile, refined, and agreeable intellect whiM
ch he used to maintain his power and strengthen and increase his popularity. He possessed large means -- his own and his wife's (who had been a countess Branitski) -- and received an enormous salary as Viceroy, and he spent a great part of his means on building a palace and laying out a garden on the south coast of the Crimea.
On the evening of December the 4th, 1852, a courier's troika drew up before his palace in Tiflis. an officer, tired and black with dust, sent by General Kozlovski with the news of Hadji MuM
rat's surrender to the Russians, entered the wide porch, stretching the stiffened muscles of his legs as he passed the sentinel. It was six o'clock, and Vorontsov was just going in to dinner when he was informed of the courier's arrival. He received him at once, and was therefore a few minutes late for dinner.
When he entered the drawing room the thirty persons invited to dine, who were sitting beside Princess Elizabeth Ksaverevna Vorontsova, or standing in groups by the windows, turned their faces towards him. M
Vorontsov was dressed in his usual black military coat, with shoulderstraps but no epaulets, and wore the White Cross of the Order of St. George at his neck.
His clean shaven, foxlike face wore a pleasant smile as, screwing up his eyes, he surveyed the assembly. Entering with quick soft steps he apologized to the ladies for being late, greeted the men, and approaching Princess Manana Orbelyani -- a tall, fine, handsome woman of Oriental type about forty-five years of age -- he offered her his arm to take her in M
to dinner. Princess Elizabeth Ksaverevna Vorontsova gave her arm to a red- haired general with bristly mustaches who was visiting Tiflis. A Georgian prince offered his arm to Princess Vorontsova's friend, Countess Choiseuil. Doctor Andreevsky, the aide-de-camp, and others, with ladies or without, followed these first couples. Footmen in livery and knee-breeches drew back and replaced the guests' chairs when they sat down, while the major-domo ceremoniously ladled out steaming soup from a silver tureen.
 took his place in the center of one side of the long table, and wife sat opposite, with the general on her right. On the prince's right sat his lady, the beautiful Orbelyani; and on his left was a graceful, dark, red-cheeked Georgian woman, glittering with jewels and incessantly smiling.
"Excellentes, chere amie!" replied Vorontsov to his wife's inquiry about what news the courier had brought him. "Simon a eu de la chance!" And he began to tell aloud, so that everyone could hear, the striking news (for him alonM
e not quite unexpected, because negotiations had long been going on) that Hadji Murat, the bravest and most famous of Shamil's officers, had come over to the Russians and would in a day or two be brought to Tiflis.
Everybody -- even the young aides-de-camp and officials who sat at the far ends of the table and who had been quietly laughing at something among themselves -- became silent and listened.
"And you, General, have you ever met this Hadji Murat?" asked the princess of her neighbor, the carroty generalM
 with the bristly mustaches, when the prince had finished speaking.
"More than once, Princess."
And the general went on to tell how Hadji Murat, after the mountaineers had captured Gergebel in 1843, had fallen upon General Pahlen's detachment and killed Colones Zolotukhin almost before their very eyes.
Vorontsov listened to the general and smiled amiably, evidently pleased that the latter had joined in the conversation. But suddenly his face assumed an absent-minded and depressed expression.
, having started talking, had begun to tell of his second encounter with Hadji Murat.
"Why, it was he, if your Excellency will please remember," said the general, "who arranged the ambush that attacked the rescue party in the 'Biscuit' expedition."
"Where?" asked Vorontsov, screwing up his eyes.
What the brave general spoke of as the "rescue" was the affair in the unfortunate Dargo campaign in which a whole detachment, including Prince Vorontsov who commanded it, would certainly have perished had it not beM
en rescued by the arrival of fresh troops. Every one knew that the whole Dargo campaign under Vorontsov's command -- in which the Russians lost many killed and wounded and several cannon -- had been a shameful affair, and therefore if any one mentioned it in Vorontsov's presence they did so only in the aspect in which Vorontsov had reported it to the Czar -- as a brilliant achievement of the Russian army. But the word "rescue" plainly indicated that it was not a brilliant victory but a blunder costing many lives. EM
verybody understood this and some pretended not to notice the meaning of the general's words, others nervously waited to see what would follow, while a few exchanged glances, and smiled. Only the carroty general with the bristly mustaches noticed nothing, and carried away by his narrative quietly replied:
"At the rescue, your Excellency."
Having started on his favorite theme, the general recounted circumstantially how Hadji Murat had so cleverly cut the detachment in two that if the rescue party had not arrivM
ed (he seemed to be particularly fond of repeating the word "rescue") not a man in the division would have escaped, because...He did not finish his story, for Manana Orbelyani, having understood what was happening, interrupted him by asking if he had found comfortable quarters in Tiflis. The general, surprised, glanced at everybody all round and saw his aides-de-camp from the end of the table looking fixedly and significantly at him, and he suddenly understood! Without replying to the princess's question, he frowneM
d, became silent, and began hurriedly swallowing the delicacy that lay on his plate, the appearance and taste of which both completely mystified him.
Everybody felt uncomfortable, but the awkwardness of the situation was relieved by the Georgian prince -- a very stupid man but an extraordinarily refined and artful flatterer and courtier -- who sat on the other side of Princess Vorontsova. Without seeming to have noticed anything he began to relate how Hadji Murat had carried off the widow of Akhmet Khan of MekhtM
"He came into the village at night, seized what he wanted, and galloped off again with the whole party."
"Why did he want that particular woman?" asked the princess.
"Oh, he was her husband's enemy, and pursued him but could never once succeed in meeting him right up to the time of his death, so he revenged himself on the widow."
The princess translated this into French for her old friend Countess Choiseuil, who sat next to the Georgian prince.
"Quelle horreur!" said the countess, closing her eyM
es and shaking her head.
"Oh no!" said Vorontsov, smiling. "I have been told that he treated his captive with chivalrous respect and afterwards released her."
"Yes, for a ransom!"
"Well, of course. But all the same he acted honorably."
These words of Vorontsov's set the tone for the further conversation. The courtiers understood that the more importance was attributed to Hadji Murat the better the prince would be pleased.
"The man's audacity is amazing. A remarkable man!"
"Why, in 1849 he dashed iM
nto Temir Khan Shura and plundered the shops in broad daylight."
An Armenian sitting at the end of the table, who had been in Temir Khan Shura at the time, related the particulars of that exploit of Hadji Murat's.
In fact, Hadji Murat was the sole topic of conversation during the whole dinner.
Everybody in succession praised his courage, his ability, and his magnanimity. Someone mentioned his having ordered twenty six prisoners to be killed, but that too was met by the usual rejoinder, "What's to be done? M
A la guerre, comme al la guerre!"
"He is a great man."
"Had he been born in Europe he might have been another Napoleon," said the stupid Georgian prince with a gift of flattery.
He knew that every mention of Napoleon was pleasant to Vorontsov, who wore the White Cross at his neck as a reward for having defeated him.
"Well, not Napoleon perhaps, but a gallant cavalry general if you like," said Vorontsov.
"If not Napoleon, then Murat."
"And his name is Hadji Murat!"
"Hadji Murat has surrendered aM
nd now there'll be an end to Shamil too," someone remarked.
"They feel that now" (this "now" meant under Vorontsov) "they can't hold out," remarked another.
"Tout cela est grace a vous!" said Manana Orbelyani.
Prince Vorontsov tried to moderate the waves of flattery which began to flow over him. Still, it was pleasant, and in the best of spirits he led his lady back into the drawing room.
After dinner, when coffee was being served in the drawing room, the prince was particularly amiable to everybody, anM
d going up to the general with the red bristly mustaches he tried to appear not to have noticed his blunder.
Having made a round of the visitors he sat down to the card table. He only played the old-fashioned game of omber. His partners were the Georgian prince, an Armenia general (who had learned the game of omber from Prince Vorontsov's valet), and Doctor Andreevsky, a man remarkable for the great influence he exercised.
Placing beside him his gold snuff-box with a portrait of Aleksandr I on the lid, the prM
ince tore open a pack of highly glazed cards and was going to spread them out, when his Italian valet brought him a letter on a silver tray.
"Another courier, your Excellency."
Vorontsov laid down the cards, excused himself, opened the letter, and began to read.
The letter was from his son, who described Hadji Murat's surrender and his own encounter with Meller-Zakomelsky.
The princess came up and inquired what their son had written.
"It's all about the same matter. ... Il a eu quelques desagrements M
avec le commandant de la place. Simon a eu tort. ... But 'All's well that ends well,'" he added in English, handing the letter to his wife; and turning to his respectfully waiting partners he asked them to draw cards.
When the first round had been dealt Vorontsov did what he was in the habit of doing when in a particularly pleasant mood: with his white, wrinkled old hand he took out a pinch of French snuff, carried it to his nose, and released it.
When Hadji Murat appeared at the prince's palaM
ce next day, the waiting room was already full of people. Yesterday's general with the bristly mustaches was there in full uniform with all his decorations, having come to take leave. There was the commander of a regiment who was in danger of being court martialed for misappropriating commisarriat money, and there was a rich Armenian (patronized by Doctor Andreevsky) who wanted to obtain from the Government a renewal of his monopoly for the sale of vodka. There, dressed in black, was the widow of an officer who hadM
 been killed in action. She had come to ask for a pension, or for free education for her children. There was a ruined Georgian prince in a magnificent Georgian costume who was trying to obtain for himself some confiscated Church property. There was an official with a large roll of paper containing a new plan for subjugating the Caucasus. There was also a Khan who had come solely to be able to tell his people at home that he had called on the prince.
They all waited their turn and were one by one shown into the pM
rince's cabinet and out again by the aide-de-camp, a handsome, fair-haired youth.
When Hadji Murat entered the waiting room with his brisk though limping step all eyes were turned towards him and he heard his name whispered from various parts of the room.
He was dressed in a long white Circassian coat over a brown beshmet trimmed round the collar with fine silver lace. He wore black leggings and soft shoes of the same color which were stretched over his instep as tight as gloves. On his head he wore a high caM
p draped turban-fashion -- that same turban for which, on the denunciation of Akhmet Khan, he had been arrested by General Klugenau and which had been the cause of his going over to Shamil.
He stepped briskly across the parquet floor of the waiting room, his whole slender figure swaying slightly in consequence of his lameness in one leg which was shorter than the other. His eyes, set far apart, looked calmly before him and seemed to see no one.
The handsome aide-de-camp, having greeted him, asked him to take M
a seat while he went to announce him to the prince, but Hadji Murat declined to sit down and, putting his hand on his dagger, stood with one foot advanced, looking round contemptuously at all those present.
The prince's interpreter, Prince Tarkhanov, approached Hadji Murat and spoke to him. Hadji Murat answered abruptly and unwillingly. A Kumyk prince, who was there to lodge a complaint against a police official, came out of the prince's room, and then the aide-de-camp called Hadji Murat, led him to the door of M
the cabinet, and showed him in.
The Commander-in-Chief received Hadji Murat standing beside his table, and his old white face did not wear yesterday's smile but was rather stern and solemn.
On entering the large room with its enormous table and great windows with green venetian blinds, Hadji Murat placed his small sunburnt hands on his chest just where the front of his white coat overlapped, and lowering his eyes began, without hurrying, to speak distinctly and respectfully, using the Kumyk dialect which he sM
"I place myself under the powerful protection of the great Czar and of yourself," said he, "and promise to serve the White Czar in faith and truth to the last drop of my blood, and I hope to be useful to you in the war with Shamil who is my enemy and yours."
Having the interpreter out, Vorontsov glanced at Hadji Murat and Hadji Murat glanced at Vorontsov.
The eyes of the two men met, and expressed to each other much that could not have been put into words and that was not at all what the interprM
eter said. Without words they told each other the whole truth. Vorontsov's eyes said that he did not believe a single word Hadji Murat was saying, and that he knew he was and always would be an enemy to everything Russian and had surrendered only because he was obliged to. Hadji Murat understood this and yet continued to give assurances of his fidelity. His eyes said, "That old man ought to be thinking of his death and not of war, but though he is old he is cunning, and I must be careful." Vorontsov understood thisM
 also, but nevertheless spoke to Hadji Murat in the way he considered necessary for the success of the war.
"Tell him," said Vorontsov, "that our sovereign is as merciful as he is mighty and will probably at my request pardon him and take him into his service. ... Have you told him?" he asked looking at Hadji Murat. ... "Until I receive my master's gracious decision, tell him I take it on myself to receive him and make his sojourn among us pleasant."
Hadji Murat again pressed his hands to the center of his chM
est and began to say something with animation.
"He says," the interpreter translated, "that formerly, when he governed Avaria in 1839, he served the Russians faithfully and would never have deserted them had not his enemy, Akhmet Khan, wishing to ruin him, calumniated him to General Klugenau."
"I know, I know," said Vorontsov (though if he had ever known he had long forgotten it). "I know," he repeated, sitting down and motioning Hadji Murat to the divan that stood beside the wall. But Hadji Murat did not sitM
 down. Shrugging his powerful shoulders as a sign that he could not bring himself to sit in the presence of so important a man, he went on, addressing the interpreter:
"Akhmet Khan and Shamil are both my enemies. Tell the prince that Akhmet Khan is dead and I cannot revenge myself on him, but Shamil lives and I will not die without taking vengeance on him," said he, knitting his brows and tightly closing his mouth.
"Yes, yes; but how does he want to revenge himself on Shamil?" said Vorontsov quietly to the inM
terpreter. "And tell him he may sit down."
Hadji Murat again declined to sit down, and in answer to the question replied that his object in coming over to the Russians was to help them to destroy Shamil.
"Very well, very well," said Vorontsov; "but what exactly does he wish to do? ... Sit down, sit down!"
Hadji Murat sat down, and said that if only they would send him to the Lesghian line and would give him an army, he would guarantee to raise the whole of Daghestan and Shamil would then be unable to hold M
"That would be excellent. ... I'll think it over," said Vorontsov.
The interpreter translated Vorontsov's words to Hadji Murat.
Hadji Murat pondered.
"Tell the Sirdar one thing more," Hadji Murat began again, "that my family are in the hands of my enemy, and that as long as they are in the mountains I am bound and cannot serve him. Shamil would kill my wife and my mother and my children if I went openly against him. Let the prince first exchange my family for the prisoners he has, and then I will dM
estroy Shamil or die!"
"All right, all right," said Vorontsov. "I will think it over. ... Now let him go to the chief of the staff and explain to him in detail his position, intentions, and wishes."
Thus ended the first interview between Hadji Murat and Vorontsov.
That even an Italian opera was performed at the new theater, which was decorated in Oriental style. Vorontsov was in his box when the striking figure of the limping Hadji Murat wearing a turban appeared in the stalls. He came in with Loris-MelikoM
v, Vorontsov's aide-de-cam;, in whose charge he was placed, and took a seat in the front row. Having sat through the first act with Oriental Mohammedan dignity, expressing no pleasure but only obvious indifference, he rose and looking calmly round at the audience went out, drawing to himself everybody's attention.
The next day was Monday and there was the usual evening party at the Vorontsovs'. In the large brightly lighted hall a band was playing, hidden among trees. Young women and women not very young wearingM
 dresses that displayed their bare necks, arms, and breasts, turned round and round in the embrace of men in bright uniforms. At the buffet, footmen in red swallow-tail coats and wearing shoes and knee-breeches, poured out champagne and served sweetmeats to the ladies. The "Sirdar's" wife also, in spite of her age, went about half-dressed among the visitors smiling affably, and through the interpreter said a few amiable words to Hadji Murat who glanced at the visitors with the same indifference he had shown yesterdM
ay in the theater. After the hostess, other half-naked women came up to him and all of them stood shamelessly before him and smilingly asked him the same question: How he liked what he saw? Vorontsov himself, wearing gold epaulets and gold shoulder-knots with his white cross and ribbon at his neck, came up and asked him the same question, evidently feeling sure, like all the others, that Hadji Murat could not help being pleased at what he saw. Hadji Murat replied to Vorontsov as he had replied to them all, that amoM
ng his people nothing of the kind was done, without expressing an opinion as to whether it was good or bad that it was so.
Here at the ball Hadji Murat tried to speak to Vorontsov about buying out his family, but Vorontsov, pretending that he had not heard him, walked away, and Loris-Melikov afterwards told Hadji Murat that this was the place to talk about business.
When it struck eleven Hadji Murat, having made sure of the time by the watch the Vorontsovs had given him, asked Loris- Melikov whether he might M
now leave. Loris-Melikov said he might, though it would be better to stay. In spite of this Hadji Murat did not stay, but drove in the phaeton placed at his disposal to the quarters that had been assigned to him.
On the fifth day of Hadji Murat's stay in Tiflis Loris- Melikov, the Viceroy's aide-de-camp, came to see him at the latter's command.
"My head and my hands are glad to serve the Sirdar," said Hadji Murat with his usual diplomatic expression, bowing his head and putting his hands to hiM
s chest. "Command me!" said he, looking amiably into Loris-Melikov's face.
Loris-Melikov sat down in an arm chair placed by the table and Hadji Murat sank onto a low divan opposite and, resting his hands on his knees, bowed his head and listened attentively to what the other said to him.
Loris-Melikov, who spoke Tartar fluently, told him that though the prince knew about his past life, he yet wanted to hear the whole story from himself.
Tell it me, and I will write it down and translate it into Russian andM
 the prince will send it to the Emperor."
Hadji Murat remained silent for a while (he never interrupted anyone but always waited to see whether his interlocutor had not something more to say), then he raised his head, shook back his cap, and smiled the peculiar childlike smile that had captivated Marya Vasilevna.
"I can do that," said he, evidently flattered by the thought that his story would be read by the Emperor.
"Thou must tell me" (in Tartar nobody is addressed as "you") "everything, deliberately froM
m the beginning," said Loris Melikov drawing a notebook from his pocket.
"I can do that, only there is much -- very much -- to tell! Many events have happened!" said Hadji Murat.
"If thou canst not do it all in one day thou wilt finish it another time," said Loris-Melikov.
"Shall I begin at the beginning?"
"Yes, at the very beginning ... where thou wast born and where thou didst live."
Hadji Murat's head sank and he sat in that position for a long time. Then he took a stick that lay beside the divan,M
 drew a little knife with an ivory gold-inlaid handle, sharp as a razor, from under his dagger, and started whittling the stick with it and speaking at the same time.
"Write: Born in Tselmess, a small aoul, 'the size of an ass's head,' as we in the mountains say," he began. "not far from it, about two cannon-shots, lies Khunzakh where the Khans lived. Our family was closely connected with them.
"My mother, when my eldest brother Osman was born, nursed the eldest Khan, Abu Nutsal Khan. Then she nursed the secoM
nd son of the Khan, Umma Khan, and reared him; but Akhmet my second brother died, and when I was born and the Khansha bore Bulach Khan, my mother would not go as wet-nurse again. My father ordered her to, but she would not. She said: 'I should again kill my own son, and I will not go.' Then my father, who was passionate, struck her with a dagger and would have killed her had they not rescued her from him. So she did not give me up, and later on she composed a song ... but I need not tell that."
ll everything. It is necessary," said Loris-Melikov.
Hadji Murat grew thoughtful. He remembered how his mother had laid him to sleep beside her under a fur coat on the roof of the saklya, and he had asked her to show him the place in her side where the scar of her wound was still visible.
He repeated the song, which he remembered:
"My white bosom was pierced by the blade of bright steel,
But I laid my bright sun, my dear boy, close upon it
Till his body was bathed in the stream of my blood.
the wound healed without aid of herbs or of grass.
As I feared not death, so my boy will ne'er fear it."
"My mother is now in Shamil's hands," he added, "and she must be rescued."
He remembered the fountain below the hill, when holding on to his mother's sarovary (loose Turkish trousers) he had gone with her for water. He remembered how she had shaved his head for the first time, and how the reflection of his round bluish head in the shining brass vessel that hung on the wall had astonished him. He rememM
bered a lean dog that had licked his face. He remembered the strange smell of the lepeshki (a kind of flat cake) his mother had given him -- a smell of smoke and of sour milk. He remembered how his mother had carried him in a basket on her back to visit his grandfather at the farmstead. He remembered his wrinkled grandfather with his gray hairs, and how he had hammered silver with his sinewy hands.
"Well, so my mother did not go as nurse," he said with a jerk of his head, "and the Khansha took another nurse but M
still remained fond of my mother, and my mother used to take us children to the Khansha's palace, and we played with her children and she was fond of us.
"There were three young Khans: Abu Nutsal Khan my brother Osman's foster-brother; Umma Khan my own sworn brother; and Bulach Khan the youngest -- whom Shamil threw over the precipice. But that happened later.
"I was about sixteen when murids began to visit the aouls. They beat the stones with wooden scimitars and cried 'Mussulmans, Ghazavat!' The Chechens alM
l went over to Muridism and the Avars began to go over too. I was then living in the palace like a brother of the Khans. I could do as I liked, and I became rich. I had horses and weapons and money. I lived for pleasure and had no care, and went on like that till the time when Kazi-Mulla, the Imam, was killed and Hamzad succeeded him. Hamzad sent envoys to the Khans to say that if they did not join the Ghazavat he would destroy Khunzakh.
"This needed consideration. The Khans feared the Russians, but were also afM
raid to join in the Holy War. The old Khansha sent me with her second son, Umma Khan, to Tiflis to ask the Russian Commander-in-Chief for help against Hamzad. The Commander-in-Chief at Tiflis was Baron Rosen. He did not receive either me or Umma Khan. He sent word that he would help us, but did nothing. Only his officers came riding to us and played cards with Umma Khan. They made him drunk with wine and took him to bad places, and he lost all he had to them at cards. His body was as strong as a bull's and he was aM
s brave as a lion, but his soul was weak as water. He would have gambled away his last horses and weapons if I had not made him come away.
"After visiting Tiflis my ideas changed and I advised the old Khansha and the Khans to join the Ghazavat...."
What made you change your mind?" asked Loris-Melikov. "Were you not pleased with the Russians?"
"No, I was not pleased," he answered decidedly, closing his eyes. "and there was also another reason why I wished to join the Ghazavat."
"Why, near Tselmess the Khan and I encountered three murids, two of whom escaped but the third one I shot with my pistol.
"He was still alive when I approached to take his weapons. He looked up at me, and said, 'Thou has killed me...I am happy; but thou are a Mussulman, young and strong. Join the Ghazavat! God wills it!'"
"And did you join it?"
"I did not, but it made me think," said Hadji Murat, and he went on with his tale.
"When Hamzad approached Kunzakh we sent our Elders to him to M
say that we would agree to join the Ghazavat if the Imam would sent a learned man to explain it to us. Hamzad had our Elders' mustaches shaved off, their nostrils pierced, and cakes hung to their noses, and in that condition he sent them back to us.
"The Elders brought word that Hamzad was ready to send a sheikh to teach us the Ghazavat, but only if the Khansha sent him her youngest son as a hostage. She took him at his word and sent her youngest son, Bulach Khan. Hamzad received him well and sent to invite the M
two elder brothers also. He sent word that he wished to serve the Khans as his father had served their father. ... The Khansha was a weak, stupid, and conceited woman, as all women are when they are not under control. She was afraid to send away both sons and sent only Umma Khan. I went with him. We were met by murids about a mile before we arrived and they sang and shot and caracoled around us, and when we drew near, Hamzad came out of his tent and went up to Umma Khan's stirrup and received him as a Khan. He saidM
, 'I have not done any harm to thy family and do not wish to do any. Only do not kill me and do not prevent my bringing the people over to the Ghazavat, and I will serve you with my whole army as my father served your father! Let me live in your house and I will help you with my advice, and you shall do as you like!'
"Umma Khan was slow of speech. He did not know how to reply and remained silent. Then I said that if this was so, Let Hamzad come to Khunzakh and the Khansha and the Khans would receive him with honM
or. ... but I was not allowed to finish -- and here I first encountered Shamil, who was beside the Imam. He said to me, 'Thou has not been asked. ... It was the Khan!'
"I was silent, and Hamzad led Umma Khan into his tent. Afterwards Hamzad called me and ordered me to go to Kunzakh with his envoys. I went. The envoys began persuading the Khansha to send her eldest son also to Hamzad. I saw there was treachery and told her not to send him; but a woman has as much sense in her head as an egg has hair. She ordered M
her son to go. Abu Nutsal Khan did not wish to. Then she said, 'I see thou are afraid!' Like a bee she knew where to sting him most painfully. Abu Nutsal Khan flushed and did not speak to her any more, but ordered his horse to be saddled. I went with him.
"Hamzad met us with even greater honor than he had shown Umma Khan. He himself rode out two rifle-shot lengths down the hill to meet us. A large party of horsemen with their banners followed him, and they too sang, shot, and caracoled.
"When we reached the cM
amp, Hamzad led the Khan into his tent and I remained with the horses....
"I was some way down the hiss when I heard shots fired in Hamzad's tent. I ran there and saw Umma Khan lying prone in a pool of blood, and Abu Nutsal was fighting the murids. One of his cheeks had been hacked off and hung down. He supported it with one hand and with the other stabbed with his dagger at all who came near him. I saw him strike down Hamzad's brother and aim a blow at another man, but then the murids fired at him and he fell."M
Hadji Murat stopped and his sunburnt face flushed a dark red and his eyes became bloodshot.
"I was seized with fear and ran away."
"Really? ... I thought thou never wast afraid," said Loris- Melikov.
"Never after that. ... Since then I have always remembered that shame, and when I recalled it I feared nothing!"
"But enough! It is time for me to pray," said Hadji Murat drawing from an inner breast-pocket of his Circassian coat Vorontsov's repeater watch and carefully pressing the spriM
ng. The repeater struck twelve and a quarter. Hadji Murat listened with his head on one side, repressing a childlike smile.
"Kunak Vorontsov's present," he said, smiling.
"It is a good watch," said Loris-Melikov. "Well then, to thou and pray, and I will wait."
"Yakshi. Very well," said Hadji Murat and went to his bedroom.
Left by himself, Loris-Melikov wrote down in his notebook the chief things Hadji Murat had related, and then lighting a cigarette began to pace up and down the room. On reaching the doM
or opposite the bedroom he heard animated voices speaking rapidly in Tartar. He guessed that the speakers were Hadji Murat's murids, and opening the door he went to them.
The room was impregnated with that special leathery acid smell peculiar to the mountaineers. On a burka spread out on the floor sat the one-eyed, red-haired Gamzalo, in a tattered greasy beshmet, plaiting a bridle. He was saying something excitedly, speaking in a hoarse voice, but when Loris-Melikov entered he immediately became silent and contM
inued his work without paying any attention to him.
In front of Gamzalo stood the merry Khan Mahoma showing his white teeth, his black lashless eyes glittering, and saying something over and over again. The handsome Eldar, his sleeves turned up on his strong arms, was polishing the girths of a saddle suspended from a nail. Khanefi, the principal worker and manager of the household, was not there, he was cooking their dinner in the kitchen.
"What were you disputing about?" asked Loris-Melikov after greeting thM
"Why, he keeps on praising Shamil," said Khan Mahoma giving his hand to Loris-Melikov. "He says Shamil is a great man, learned, holy, and a dzhigit."
"How is it that he has left him and still praises him?"
"He has left him and still praises him," repeated Khan Mahoma, his teeth showing and his eyes glittering.
"And does he really consider him a saint?" asked Loris- Melikov.
"If he were not a saint the people would not listen to him," said Gamzalo rapidly.
"Shamil is no saint, but Mansur was!" M
replied Khan Mahoma. "He was a real saint. When he was Imam the people were quite different. He used to ride through the aouls and the people used to come out and kiss the him of his coat and confess their sins and vow to do no evil. Then all the people -- so the old men say -- lived like saints: not drinking, nor smoking, nor neglecting their prayers, and forgiving one another their sins even when blood had been spilled. If anyone then found money or anything, he tied it to a stake and set it up by the roadside. IM
n those days God gave the people success in everything -- not as now."
"In the mountains they don's smoke or drink now," said Gamzalo.
"Your Shamil is a lamorey," said Khan Mahoma, winking at Loris-Melikov. (Lamorey was a contemptuous term for a mountaineer.)
"Yes, lamorey means mountaineer," replied Gamzalo. "It is in the mountains that the eagles dwell."
"Smart fellow! Well hit!" said Khan Mahoma with a grin, pleased at his adversary's apt retort.
Seeing the silver cigarette-case in Loris Melikov'sM
 hand, Khan Mahoma asked for a cigarette, and when Loris=Melikov remarked that they were forbidden to smoke, he winded with one eye and jerking his head in the direction of Hadji Murat's bedroom replied that they could do it as long as they were not seen. He at once began smoking -- not inhaling -- and pouting his red lips awkwardly as he blew out the smoke.
"That is wrong!" said Gamzalo severely, and left the room. Khan Mahoma winked in his direction, and while smoking asked Loris-Melikov where he could best buM
y a silk beshmet and a white cap.
"Why, has thou so much money?"
"I have enough," replied Khan Mahoma with a wink.
"Ask him where he got the money," said Eldar, turning his handsome smiling face towards Loris-Melikov.
"Oh, I won it!" said Khan Mahoma quickly, and related how while walking in Tiflis the day before he had come upon a group of men -- Russians and Armenians -- playing at orlyanka (a kind of heads-and-tails). the stake was a large one: three gold ;pieces and much silver. Khan Mahoma at once M
saw what the game consisted in, and jingling the coppers he had in his pocket he went up to the players and said he would stake the whole amount.
"How couldst thou do it? Hadst thou so much?" asked Loris- Melikov.
"I had only twelve kopecks," said Khan Mahoma, grinning.
"But if thou hadst lost?"
"Why, this!" said Khan Mahoma pointing to his pistol.
"Wouldst thou have given that?"
"Give it indeed! I should have run away, and if anyone had tried to stop me I should have killed him -- that's all!"
"Well, and didst thou win?"
"Aye, I won it all and went away!"
Loris-Melikov quite understood what sort of men Khan Mahoma and Eldar were. Khan Mahoma was a merry fellow, careless and ready for any spree. He did not know what to do with his superfluous vitality. He was always gay and reckless, and played with his own and other people's lives. For the sake of that sport with life he had now come over to the Russians, and for the same sport he might go back to Shamil tomorrow.
Eldar was also quite easy to uM
nderstand. He was a man entirely devoted to his Murshid; calm, strong, and firm.
The red-haired Gamzalo was the only one Loris-Melikov did not understand. He saw that that man was not only loyal to Shamil but felt an insuperable aversion, contempt, repugnance, and hatred for all Russians, and Loris-Melikov could therefore not understand why he had come over to them. It occurred to him that, as some of the higher officials suspected, Hadji Murat's surrender and his tales of hatred of Shamil might be false, and thM
at perhaps he had surrendered only to spy out the Russians' weak spots that, after escaping back to the mountains, he might be able to direct his forces accordingly. Gamzalo's whole person strengthened this suspicion.
"The others, and Hadji Murat himself, know how to hid their intentions, but this one betrays them by his open hatred," thought he.
Loris-Melikov tried to speak to him. He asked whether he did not feel dull. "No, I don't!" he growled hoarsely without stopping his work, and glancing at his questioM
ner out of the corner of his one eye. He replied to all Loris-Melikov's other questions in a similar manner.
While Loris-Melikov was in the room Hadji Murat's fourth murid came in, the Avar Khanefi; a man with a hairy face and neck and an arched chest as rough as if it were overgrown with moss. He was strong and a hard worker, always engrossed in his duties, and like Eldar unquestioningly obedient to his master.
When he entered the room to fetch some rice, Loris-Melikov stopped him and asked where he came froM
m and how long he had been with Hadji Murat.
"Five years," replied Khanefi. "I come from the same aoul as he. My father killed his uncle and they wished to kill me." he said calmly, looking from under his joined eyebrows straight into Loris-Melikov's face. "Then I asked them to adopt me as a brother."
"What do you mean by 'adopt as a brother'?"
"I did not shave my head nor cut my nails for two months, and then I came to them. They let me in to Patimat, his mother, and she gave me the breast and I became hiM
Hadji Murat's voice could be heard from the next room and Eldar, immediately answering his call, promptly wiped his hands and went with large strides into the drawing room.
"He asks thee to come," said he, coming back.
Loris-Melikov gave another cigarette to the merry Khan Mahoma and went into the drawing room.
When Loris-Melikov entered the drawing room Hadji Murat received him with a bright face.
"Well, shall I continue?" he asked, sitting down comfortably on the divan.
"Yes, certainly," said Loris-Melikov. "I have been in to have a talk with thy henchmen. ... One is a jolly fellow!" he added.
"Yes, Khan Mahoma is a frivolous fellow," said Hadji Murat.
"I liked the young handsome one."
"Ah, that's Eldar. He's young but firm -- made of iron!"
They were silent for a while.
"I told the how the Khans were killed. ... Well, having killed them Hamzad rode into Khunzakh and took up his quarters in their palace. The Khansha was the onlyM
 one of the family left alive. Hamzad sent for her. She reproached him, so he winked to his murid Aseldar, who struck her from behind and killed her."
"Why did he kill her?" asked Loris-Melikov.
"What could he do? ... Where the forelegs have gone the hind legs must follow! He killed off the whole family. Shamil killed the youngest son -- threw him over a precipice. ...
"Then the whole of Avaria surrendered to Hamzad. But my brother and I would not surrender. We wanted his blood for the blood of the Khans. M
We pretended to yield, but our only thought was how to get his blood. We consulted our grandfather and decided to await the time when he would come out of his palace, and then to kill him from an ambush. Someone overheard us and told Hamzad, who sent for grandfather and said, 'Mind, if it be true that thy grandsons are planning evil against me, thou and they shall hang from one rafter. I do God's work and cannot be hindered. ... To, and remember what I have said!'
"Our grandfather came home and told us.
 we decided not to wait but to do the deed on the first day of the feast in the mosque. Our comrades would not take part in it but my brother and I remained firm.
"We took two pistols each, put on our burkas, and went to the mosque. Hamzad entered the mosque with thirty murids. They all had drawn swords in their hands. Aseldar, his favorite murid (the one who had cut off Khansha's head), saw us, shouted to us to take off our burkas, and came towards me. I had my dagger in my hand and I killed him with it and rusM
hed at Hamzad; but my brother Osman had already shot him. He was still alive and rushed at my brother dagger in hand, but I have him a finishing blow on the head. There were thirty murids and we were only two. They killed my brother Osman, but I kept them at bay, leaped through the window, and escaped.
"When it was known that Hamzad had been killed all the people rose. The murids fled and those of them who did not flee were killed."
Hadji Murat paused, and breathed heavily.
"That was very good," he continuM
ed, "but afterwards everything was spoiled.
"Shamil succeeded Hamzad. He sent envoys to me to say that I should join him in attacking the Russians, and that if I refused he would destroy Kunzakh and kill me.
"I answered that I would not join him and would not let him come to me. ..."
"Why didst thou not go with him?" asked Loris-Melikov.
Hadji Murat frowned and did not reply at once.
"I could not. The blood of my brother Osman and of Abu Nutsal Khan was on his hands. I did not go to him. General RoseM
n sent me an officer's commission and ordered me to govern Avaria. All this would have been well, but that Rosen appointed as Khan of Kazi-Kumukh, first Mahomet-Murza, and afterwards Akhmet Khan, who hated me. He had been trying to get the Khansha's daughter, Sultanetta, in marriage for his son, but she would not giver her to him, and he believed me to be the cause of this. ... Yes, Akhmet Khan hated me and sent his henchmen to kill me, but I escaped from them. Then he spoke ill of me to General Klugenau. He said tM
hat I told the Avars not to supply wood to the Russian soldiers, and he also said that I had donned a turban -- this one" (Hadji Murat touched his turban) "and that this meant that I had gone over to Shamil. The general did not believe him and gave orders that I should not be touched. But when the general went to Tiflis, Akhmet Khan did as he pleased. He sent a company of soldiers to seize me, put me in chains, and tied me to a cannon.
"So they kept me six days," he continued. "On the seventh day they untied me M
and started to take me to Temir-Khan-Shura. Forty soldiers with loaded guns had me in charge. My hands were tied and I knew that they had orders to kill me if I tried to escape.
"As we approached Mansokha the path became narrow, and on the right was an abyss about a hundred and twenty yards deep. I went to the right -- to the very edge. A soldier wanted to stop me, but I jumped down and pulled him with me. He was killed outright but I, as you see, remained alive.
"Ribs, head, arms, and leg -- all were broken!M
 I tried to crawl but grew giddy and fell asleep. I awoke wet with blood. A shepherd saw me and called some people who carried me to an aoul. My ribs and head healed, and my leg too, only it has remained short," and Hadji Murat stretched out his crooked leg. "It still serves me, however, and that is well," said he.
"The people heard the news and began coming to me. I recovered and went to Tselmess. The Avars again called on me to rule over them," he went on, with tranquil, confident pride, "and I agreed."
rose quickly and taking a portfolio out of a saddlebag, drew out two discolored letters and handed one of them to Loris- Melikov. They were from General Klugenau. Loris-Melikov read the first letter, which was as follows:
"Lieutenant Hadji Murat, thou has served under me and I was satisfied with thee and considered thee a good man.
"Recently Akhmet Khan informed me that thou are a traitor, that thou has donned a turban and has intercourse with Shamil, and that thou has taught the people to disobey the RussianM
 Government. I ordered thee to be arrested and brought before me but thou fledst. I do not know whether this is for thy good or not, as I do not know whether thou art guilty or not.
"Now hear me. If thy conscience is pure, if thou are not guilty in anything towards the great Czar, come to me, fear no one. I am thy defender. The Khan can do nothing to thee, he is himself under my command, so thou has nothing to fear."
Klugenau added that he always kept his word and was just, and he again exhorted Hadji Murat tM
o appear before him.
When Loris-Melikov had read this letter Hadji Murat, before handing him the second one, told him what he had written in reply to the first.
"I wrote that I wore a turban not for Shamil's sake but for my soul's salvation; that I neither wished nor could go over to Shamil, because he had cause the death of my father, my brothers, and my relations; but that I could not join the Russians because I had been dishonored by them. (In Khunzakh, a scoundrel had spat on me while I was bound, and I cM
ould not join your people until that man was killed.) But above all I feared that liar, Akhmet Khan.
"Then the general sent me this letter," said Hadji Murat, handing Loris-Melikov the other discolored paper.
"Thou has answered my first letter and I thank thee," read Loris-Melikov. "Thou writest that thou are not afraid to return but that the insult done thee by a certain giarou prevents it, but I assure thee that the Russian law is just and that thou shalt see him who dared to offend thee punished before thiM
ne eyes. I have already given orders to investigate the matter.
"Hear me, Hadji Murat! I have a right to be displeased with thee for not trusting me and my honor, but I forgive thee, for I know how suspicious mountaineers are in general. If thy conscience is pure, if thou hast put on a turban only for they soul's salvation, then thou art right and mayst look me and the Russian Government boldly in the eye. He who dishonored thee shall, I assure thee, be punished and thy property shall be restored to thee, and thM
ou shalt see and know what Russian law is. Moreover we Russians look at things differently, and thou hast not sunk in our eyes because some scoundrel has dishonored thee.
"I myself have consented to the Chimrints wearing turbans, and I regard their actions in the right light, and therefore I repeat that thou hast nothing to fear. Come to me with the man by whom I am sending thee this letter. He is faithful to me and is not the slave of thy enemies, but is the friend of a man who enjoys the special favor of the GM
Further on Klugenau again tried to persuade Hadji Murat to come over to him.
"I did not believe him," said Hadji Murat when Loris-Melikov had finished reading, "and did not go to Klugenau. The chief thing for me was to revenge myself on Akhmet Khan, and that I could not do through the Russians. Then Akhmet Khan surrounded Tselmess and wanted to take me or kill me. I had too few men and could not drive him off, and just then came an envoy with a letter from Shamil promising to help me to defeat andM
 kill Akhmet Khan and making me ruler over the whole of Avaria. I considered the matter for a long time and then went over to Shamil, and from that time I have fought the Russians continually."
Here Hadji Murat related all his military exploits, of which there were very many and some of which were already familiar to Loris-Melikov. all his campaigns and raids had been remarkable for the extraordinary rapidity of his movements and the boldness of his attacks, which were always crowned with success.
r was any friendship between me and Shamil," said Hadji Murat at the end of his story, "but he feared me and needed me. But it so happened that I was asked who should be Imam after Shamil, and I replied: 'He will be Imam whose sword is sharpest!'
"This was told to Shamil and he wanted to get rid of me. He sent me into Tabasaran. I went, and captured a thousand sheep and three hundred horses, but he said I had not done the right thing and dismissed me from being Naib, and ordered me to send him all the money. I sM
ent him a thousand gold pieces. He sent his murids and they took from me all my property. He demanded that I should go to him, but I knew he wanted to kill me and I did not go. Then he sent to take me. I resisted and went over to Vorontsov. Only I did not take my family. My mother, my wives, and my son are in his hands. Tell the Sirdar that as long as my family is in Shamil's power I can do nothing."
"I will tell him," said Loris-Melikov.
"Take pains, try hard!. ... What is mine is thine, only help me with thM
e Prince. I am tied up and the end of the rope is in Shamil's hands," said Hadji Murat concluding his story.
On the 20th of December Vorontsov wrote to Chernyshov, the Minister of War. The letter was in French:
"I did not write to you by the last post, dear Prince, as I wished first to decide what we should do with Hadji Murat, and for the last two or three days I have not been feeling quite well.
"In my last letter I informed you of Hadji Murat's arrival here. He reached Tiflis on the 8th,M
 and next day I made his acquaintance, and during the following seven or eight days have spoken to him and considered what use we can make of him in the future, and especially what we are to do with him at present, for he is much concerned about the fate of his family, and with every appearance of perfect frankness says that while they are in Shamil's hands he is paralyzed and cannot render us any service or show his gratitude for the friendly reception and forgiveness we have extended to him.
bout those dear to him makes him restless, and the persons I have appointed to live with him assure me that he does not sleep at night, eats hardly anything, prays continually, and asks only to be allowed to ride out accompanied by several Cossacks -- the sole recreation and exercise possible for him and made necessary to him by life-long habit. Every day he comes to me to know whether I have any news of his family, and to ask me to have all the prisoners in our hands collected and offered to Shamil in exchange forM
 them. He would also give a little money. There are people who would let him have some for the purpose. He keeps repeating to me: 'Save my family and then give me a chance to serve thee' (preferably, in his opinion, on the Lesghian line), 'and if within a month I do not render you great service, punish me as you think fit.' I reply that to me all this appears very just, and that many among us would even not trust him so long as his family remain in the mountains and are not in our hands as hostages, and that I willM
 do everything possible to collect the prisoners on our frontier, that I have no power under our laws to give him money for the ransom of his family in addition to the sum he may himself be able to raise, but that I may perhaps find some other means of helping him. After that I told him frankly that in my opinion Shamil would not in any case give up the family, and that Shamil might tell him so straight out and promise him a full pardon and his former posts, and might threaten if Hadji Murat did not return, to killM
 his mother, his wives, and his six children. I asked him whether he could say frankly what he would do if he received such an announcement from Shamil. He lifted his eyes and arms to heaven, and said that everything is in God's hands, but that he would never surrender to his foe, for he is certain Shamil would not forgive him and he would therefore not have long to live. As to the destruction of his family, he did not think Shamil would act so rashly: firstly, to avoid making him a yet more desperate and dangerousM
 foe, and secondly, because there were many people, and even very influential people, in Daghestan, who would dissuade Shamil from such a course. Finally, he repeated several times that whatever God might decree for him in the future, he was at present interested in nothing but his family's ransom, and he implored me in God's name to help him and allow him to return to the neighborhood of the Chechnya, where he could, with the help and consent of our commanders, have some intercourse with his family and regular newM
s of their condition and of the best means to liberate them. He said that many people, and even some Naibs in that part of the enemy's territory, were more or less attached to him and that among the whole of the population already subjugated by Russia or neutral it would be easy with our help to establish relations very useful for the attainment of the aim which gives him no peace day or night, and the attainment of which would set him at ease and make it possible for him to act for our good and win our confidence.M
"He asks to be sent back to Grozny with a convoy of twenty or thirty picked Cossacks who would serve him as a protection against foes and us as a guarantee of his good faith.
"You will understand, dear Prince, that I have been much perplexed by all this, for do what I will a great responsibility rests on me. It would be in the highest degree rash to trust him entirely, yet in order to deprive him of all means of escape we should have to lock him up, and in my opinion that would be both unjust and impolitic. M
A measure of that kind, the news of which would soon spread over the whole of Daghestan, would do us great harm by keeping back those who are now inclined more or less openly to oppose Shamil (and there are many such), and who are keenly watching to see how we treat the Imam's bravest and most adventurous officer now that he has found himself obliged to place himself in our hands. If we treat Hadji Murat as a prisoner all the good effect of the situation will be lost. Therefore I think that I could not act otherwisM
e than as I have done, though at the same time I feel that I may be accused of having made a great mistake if Hadji Murat should take it into his head to escape again. In the service, and especially in a complicated situation such as this, it is difficult, not to say impossible, to follow any one straight path without risking mistakes and without accepting responsibility, but once a path seems to be the right one I must follow it, happen what may.
"I beg of you, dear Prince, to submit this to his Majesty the EmpM
eror for his consideration; and I shall be happy if it pleases our most august monarch to approve my action.
"All that I have written above I have also written to Generals Zavodovsky and Kozlovsky, to guide the latter when communicating direct with Hadji Murat whom I have warned not to act or go anywhere without Kozlovsky's consent. I also told him that it would be all the better of us if he rode out with our convoy, as otherwise Shamil might spread a rumor that we were keeping him prisoner, but at the same timeM
 I made him promise never to go to Vozdvizhensk, because my son, to whom he first surrendered and whom he looks upon as his kunak (friend), is not the commander of that place and some unpleasant misunderstanding might easily arise. In any case Vozdvizhensk lies too near a thickly populated hostile settlement, which for the intercourse with his friends which he desires, Grozny is in all respects suitable.
"Besides the twenty chosen Cossacks who at his own request are to keep close to him, I am also sending CaptaiM
n Loris-Melikov -- a worthy, excellent, and highly intelligence officer who speaks Tartar, and knows Hadji Murat well and apparently enjoys his full confidence. During the ten days that Hadji Murat has spent here, he has, however, lived in the same house with Lieutenant-Colonel Prince Tarkhanov, who is in command of the shoushin District and is here on business connected with the service. He is a truly worthy man whom I trust entirely. He also has won Hadji Murat's confidence, and through him alone -- as he speaks M
Tartar perfectly -- we have discussed the most delicate and secret matters. I have consulted Tarkhanov about Hadji Murat, and he fully agrees with me that it was necessary either to act as I have done, or to put Hadji Murat in prison and guard him in the strictest manner (for if we once treat him badly he will not be easy to hold), or else to remove him from the country altogether. But these two last measures would not only destroy all the advantage accruing to us from Hadji Murat's quarrel with Shamil, but would iM
nevitably check any growth of the present insubordination, and possible future revolt, of the people against Shamil's power. Prince Tarkhanov tells me he himself has no doubt of Hadji Murat's truthfulness, and that Hadji Murat is convinced that Shamil will never forgive him but would have him executed in spite of any promise of forgiveness. The only thing Tarkhanov has noticed in his intercourse with Hadji Murat that might cause any anxiety, is his attachment to his religion. Tarkhanov does not deny that Shamil migM
ht influence Hadji Murat from that side. But as I have already said, he will never persuade Hadji Murat that he will not take his life sooner or later should the latter return to him.
"This, dear Prince, is all I have to tell you about this episode in our affairs here."
The report was dispatched from Tiflis on the 24th of December 1851, and on New Year's Eve a courier, having overdriven a dozen horses and beaten a dozen drivers till they bled, delivered it to Prince Chernyshov who at that timeM
 was Minister of War; and on the 1st of January 1852 Chernyshov took Vorontsov's report, among other papers, to the Emperor Nicholas.
Chernyshov disliked Vorontsov because of the general respect in which the latter was held and because of his immense wealth, and also because Vorontsov was a real aristocrat while Chernyshov, after all, was a parvenu, but especially because the Emperor was particularly well disposed towards Vorontsov. Therefore at every opportunity Chernyshov tried to injure Vorontsov.
had last presented the report about Caucasian affairs he had succeeded in arousing Nicholas's displeasure against Vorontsov because -- through the carelessness of those in command -- almost the whole of a small Caucasian detachment had been destroyed by the mountaineers. He now intended to present the steps taken by Vorontsov in relation to Hadji Murat in an unfavorable light. He wished to suggest to the Emperor that Vorontsov always protected and even indulged the natives to the detriment of the Russians, and thatM
 he had acted unwisely in allowing Hadji Murat to remain in the Caucasus for there was every reason to suspect that he had only come over to spy on our means of defense, and that it would therefore be better to transport him to Central Russia and make use of him only after his family had been rescued from the mountaineers and it had become possible to convince ourselves of his loyalty.
Chernyshov's plan did not succeed merely because on that New Year's Day Nicholas was in particularly bad spirits, and out of perM
versity would not have accepted any suggestion whatever from anyone, least of all from Chernyshov whom he only tolerated -- regarding him as indispensable for the time being but looking upon him as a blackguard, for Nicholas knew of his endeavors at the trial of the Decembrists to secure the conviction of Zachary Chernyshov, and of his attempt to obtain Zachary's property for himself. So thanks to Nicholas's ill temper Hadji Murat remained in the Caucasus, and his circumstances were not changed as they might have bM
een had Chernyshov presented his report at another time.
It was half-past nine o'clock when through the mist of the cold morning (the thermometer showed 13 degrees below zero Fahrenheit) Chernyshov's fat, bearded coachman, sitting on the box of a small sledge (like the one Nicholas drove about in) with a sharp-angled, cushion-shaped azure velvet cap on his head, drew up at the entrance of the Winter Palace and gave a friendly nod to his chum, Prince Dolgoruky's coachman -- who having brought his master to the paM
lace had himself long been waiting outside, in his big coat with the thickly wadded skirts, sitting on the reins and rubbing his numbed hands together. Chernyshov had on a long cloak with a large cap and a fluffy collar of silver beaver, and a regulation three-cornered had with cocks' feathers. He threw back the bearskin apron of the sledge and carefully disengaged his chilled feet, on which he had no over-shoes (he prided himself on never wearing any). Clanking his spurs with an air of bravado he ascended the carpM
eted steps and passed through the hall door which was respectfully opened for him by the porter, and entered the hall. Having thrown off his cloak which an old Court lackey hurried forward to take, he went to a mirror and carefully removed the hat from his curled wig. Looking at himself in the mirror, he arranged the hair on his temples and the tuft above his forehead with an accustomed movement of his old hands, and adjusted his cross, the shoulder-knots of his uniform, and his large-initialed epaulets, and then wM
ent up the gently ascending carpeted stairs, his not very reliable old legs feebly mounting the shallow steps. Passing the Court lackeys in gala livery who stood obsequiously bowing, Chernyshov entered the waiting-room. He was respectfully met by a newly appointed aide- de-camp of the Emperor's in a shining new uniform with epaulets and shoulder-knots, whose face was still fresh and rosy and who had a small black mustache, and the hair on his temples brushed towards his eyes in the same way as the Emperor.
e Vasili Dolgoruky, Assistant-Minister of War, with an expression of ennui on his dull face -- which was ornamented with similar whiskers, mustaches, and temple tufts brushed forward like Nicholas's -- greeted him.
"L'empereur?" said Chernyshov, addressing the aide-de-camp and looking inquiringly towards the door leading to the cabinet.
"Sa majeste vient de rentrer," replied the aide-de-camp, evidently enjoying the sound of his own voice, and stepping so softly and steadily that had a tumbler of water been plM
aced on his head none of it would have been spilled, he approached the door and disappeared, his whole body evincing reverence for the spot he was about to visit.
Dolgoruky meanwhile opened his portfolio to see that it contained the necessary papers, while Chernyshov, frowning, paced up and down to restore the circulation in his numbed feet, and thought over what he was about to report to the Emperor. He was near the door of the cabinet when it opened again and the aide- de-camp, even more radiant and respectfulM
 than before, came out and with a gesture invited the minister and his assistant to enter.
The Winter Palace had been rebuilt after a fire some considerable time before this, but Nicholas was still occupying rooms in the upper story. The cabinet in which he received the reports of his ministers and other high officials was a very lofty apartment with four large windows. A big portrait of the Emperor Alexander I hung on the front side of the room. Two bureaux stood between the windows, and several chairs were ranM
ged along the walls. IN the middle of the room was an enormous writing table and an arm chair before it for Nicholas, and other chairs for those to whom he gave audience.
Nicholas sat at the table in a black coat with shoulder- straps but no epaulets, his enormous body -- with his overgrown stomach tightly laced in -- was thrown back, and he gazed at the newcomers with fixed, lifeless eyes. His long pale face, with its enormous receding forehead between the tufts of hair which were brushed forward and skillfullyM
 joined to the wig that covered his bald patch, was specially cold and stony that day. His eyes, always dim, looked duller than usual, the compressed lips under his upturned mustaches, the high collar which supported his chin, and his fat freshly shaven cheeks on which symmetrical sausage-shaped bits of whiskers had been left, gave his face a dissatisfied and even irate expression. His bad mood was caused by fatigue, due to the fact that he had been to a masquerade the night before, and while walking about as was hM
is wont in his Horse Guards' uniform with a bird on the helmet, among the public which crowded round and timidly made way for his enormous, self-assured figure, he had again met the mask who at the previous masquerade had aroused his senile sensuality by her whiteness, her beautiful figure, and her tender voice. At that former masquerade she had disappeared after promising to meet him at the next one.
At yesterday's masquerade she had come up to him, and this time he had not let her go, but had led her to the boM
x specially kept ready for that purpose, where he could be alone with her. Having arrived in silence at the door of the box Nicholas looked round to find the attendant, but he was not there. He frowned and pushed the door open himself, letting the lady enter first.
"Il y a quelq'un!" said the mask, stopping short.
And the box actually was occupied. On the small velvet- covered sofa, close together, sat an Uhlan officer and a pretty, fair curly-haired young woman in a domino, who had removed her mask. On catchM
ing sight of the angry figure of Nicholas drawn up to its full height, she quickly replaced her mask, but the Uhlan officer, rigid with fear, gazed at Nicholas with fixed eyes without rising from the sofa.
Used as he was to the terror he inspired in others, that terror always pleased Nicholas, and by way of contrast he sometimes liked to astound those plunged in terror by addressing kindly words to them. He did so on this occasion.
"Well, friend!" said he to the officer, "You are younger than I and might giveM
 up your place to me."
The officer jumped to his feet, and growing first pale and then red and bending almost double, he followed his partner silently out of the box, leaving Nicholas alone with his lady.
She proved to be a pretty, twenty-year-old virgin, the daughter of a Swedish governess. She told Nicholas how when quite a child she had fallen in love with him from his portraits; how she adored him and had made up her mind to attract his attention at any cost. Now she had succeeded and wanted nothing more M
The girl was taken to the place where Nicholas usually had rendezvous with women, and there he spent more than an hour with her.
When he returned to his room that night and lay on the hard narrow bed about which he prided himself, and covered himself with the cloak which he considered to be (and spoke of as being) as famous as Napoleon's hat, it was a long time before he could fall asleep. He thought now of the frightened and elated expression on that girl's fair face, and now of the full, powM
erful shoulders of his established mistress, Nelidova, and he compared the two. That profligacy in a married man was a bad thing did not once enter his head, and he would have been greatly surprised had anyone censured him for it. Yet though convinced that he had acted rightly, some kind of unpleasant after-taste remained, and to stifle that feeling he dwelt on a thought that always tranquilized him -- the thought of his own greatness.
Though he had fallen asleep so late, he rose before eight, and after attendinM
g to his toilet in the usual way -- rubbing his big well-fed body all over with ice -- and saying his prayers (repeating those he had been used to from childhood -- the prayer to the Virgin, the apostles' Creed, and the Lord's Prayer, without attaching any kind of meaning to the words he uttered), he went out through the smaller portico of the palace onto the embankment in his military cloak and cap.
On the embankment he met a student in the uniform of the School of Jurisprudence, who was as enormous as himself.M
 On recognizing the uniform of that school, which he disliked for its freedom of thought, Nicholas frowned, but the stature of the student and the painstaking manner in which he drew himself up and saluted, ostentatiously sticking out his elbow, mollified his displeasure.
"Your name?" said he.
"Polosatov, your Imperial Majesty."
The student continued to stand with his hand lifted to his hat.
"Do you wish to enter the army?"
"Not at all, your Imperial Majesty.M
"Blockhead!" And Nicholas turned away and continued his walk, and began uttering aloud the first words that came into his head.
"Kopervine...Kopervine -- " he repeated several times (it was the name of yesterday's girl). "Horrid ... horrid -- " He did not think of what he was saying, but stifled his feelings by listening to the words.
"Yes, what would Russia be without me?" said he, feeling his former dissatisfaction returning. "What would -- not Russia alone but Europe be, without me?" and calling to miM
nd the weakness and stupidity of his brother-in-law the King of Prussia, he shook his head.
As he was returning to the small portico, he saw the carriage of Helena Pavlovna, with a red-liveried footman, approaching the Saltykov entrance of the palace.
Helena Pavlovna was to him the personification of that futile class of people who discussed not merely science and poetry, but even the ways of governing men: imagining that they could govern themselves better than he, Nicholas, governed them! He knew that howevM
er much he crushed such people they reappeared again and again, and he recalled his brother, Michael Pavlovich, who had died not long before. A feeling of sadness and vexation came over him and with a dark frown he again began whispering the first words that came into his head, which he only ceased doing when he reentered the palace.
On reaching his apartments he smoothed his whiskers and the hair on his temples and the wig on his bald patch, and twisted his mustaches upwards in front of the mirror, and then wenM
t straight to the cabinet in which he received reports.
He first received Chernyshov, who at once saw by his face, and especially by his eyes, that Nicholas was in a particularly bad humor that day, and knowing about the adventure of the night before he understood the cause. Having coldly greeted him and invited him to sit down, Nicholas fixed on him a lifeless gaze. The first matter Chernyshov reported upon was a case of embezzlement by commissariat officials which had just been discovered; the next was the movM
ement of troops on the Prussian frontier; then came a list of rewards to be given at the New Year to some people omitted from a former list; then Vorontsov's report about Hadji Murat; and lastly some unpleasant business concerning an attempt by a student of the Academy of Medicine on the life of a professor.
Nicholas heard the report of the embezzlement silently with compressed lips, his large white hand -- with one ring on the fourth finger -- stroking some sheets of paper, and his eyes steadily fixed on ChernyM
shov's forehead and on the tuft of hair above it.
Nicholas was convinced that everybody stole. He knew he would have to punish the commissariat officials now, and decided to send them all to serve in the ranks, but he also knew that this would not prevent those who succeeded them from acting in the same way. It was a characteristic of officials to steal, but it was his duty to punish them for doing so, and tired as he was of that duty he conscientiously performed it.
"It seems there is only one honest man in M
Chernyshov at once understood that this one honest man was Nicholas himself, and smiled approvingly.
"It looks like it, your Imperial Majesty," said he.
"Leave it -- I will give a decision," said Nicholas, taking the document and putting it on the left side of the table.
Then Chernyshov reported the rewards to be given and about moving the army on the Prussian frontier.
Nicholas looked over the list and struck out some names, and then briefly and firmly gave orders to move two divisM
ions to the Prussian frontier. He could not forgive the King of Prussia for granting a Constitution to his people after the events of 1848, and therefore while expressing most friendly feelings to his brother-in-law in letters and conversation, he considered it necessary to keep an army near the frontier in case of need. He might want to use these troops to defend his brother-in-law's throne if the people of Prussia rebelled (Nicholas saw a readiness for rebellion everywhere) as he had used troops to suppress the rM
ising in Hungary a few years previously. they were also of use to give more weight and influence to such advice as he gave to the King of Prussia.
"Yes -- what would Russia be like now if it were not for me?" he again thought.
"Well, what else is there?" said he.
"A courier from the Caucasus," said Chernyshov, and he reported what Vorontsov had written about Hadji Murat's surrender.
"Well, well!" said Nicholas. "It's a good beginning!"
"Evidently the plan devised by your Majesty begins to bear fruit,M
this approval of his strategic talents was particularly pleasant to Nicholas because, though he prided himself upon them, at the bottom of his heart he knew that they did not really exist, and he now desired to hear more detailed praise of himself.
"How do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean that if your Majesty's plans had been adopted before, and we had moved forward slowly and steadily, cutting down forests and destroying the supplies of food, the Caucasus would have been subjugated long agoM
. I attribute Hadji Murat's surrender entirely to his having come to the conclusion that they can hold out no longer."
"True," said Nicholas.
Although the plan of a gradual advance into the enemy's territory by means of felling forests and destroying the food supplies was Ermolov's and Velyaminov's plan, and was quite contrary to Nicholas's own plan of seizing Shamil's place of residence and destroying that nest of robbers -- which was the plan on which the dargo expedition in 1845 (that cost so many lives) hM
ad been undertaken -- Nicholas nevertheless attributed to himself also the plan of a slow advance and a systematic felling of forests and devastation of the country. It would seem that to believe the plan of a slow movement by felling forests and destroying food supplies to have been his own would have necessitated hiding the fact that he had insisted on quite contrary operations in 1845. But he did not hide it and was proud of the plan of the 1845 expedition as well as of the plan of a slow advance -- though the tM
wo were obviously contrary to one another. Continual brazen flattery from everybody round him in the teeth of obvious facts had brought him to such a state that he no longer saw his own inconsistencies or measured his actions and words by reality, logic, or even simple common sense; but was quite convinced that all his orders, however senseless, unjust, and mutually contradictory they might be, became reasonable, just, and mutually accordant simply because he gave them. His decision in the case next reported to himM
 -- that of the student of the Academy of Medicine -- was of the that senseless kind.
The case was as follows: A young man who had twice failed in his examinations was being examined a third time, and when the examiner again would not pass him, the young man whose nerves were deranged, considering this to be an injustice, seized a pen- knife from the table in a paroxysm of fury, and rushing at the professor inflicted on him several trifling wounds.
"What's his name?" asked Nicholas.
"Of Polish descent and a roman Catholic," answered Chernyshov.
Nicholas frowned. He had done much evil to the Poles. To justify that evil he had to feel certain that all Poles were rascals, and he considered them to be such and hated them in proportion to the evil he had done them.
"Wait a little," he said, closing his eyes and bowing his head.
Chernyshov, having more than once heard Nicholas say so, knew that when the Emperor had to take a decision it was only necessary for him to concentrate his aM
ttention for a few moments and the spirit moved him, and the best possible decision presented itself as though an inner voice had told him what to do. He was now thinking how most fully to satisfy the feeling of hatred against the Poles which this incident had stirred up within him, and the inner voice suggested the following decision. He took the report and in his large handwriting wrote on its margin with three orthographical mistakes:
"Diserves deth, but, thank God, we have no capitle punishment, and it is noM
t for me to introduce it. Make him fun the gantlet of a thousand men twelve times. -- Nicholas."
He signed, adding his unnaturally huge flourish.
Nicholas knew that twelve thousand strokes with the regulation rods were not only certain death with torture, but were a superfluous cruelty, for five thousand strokes were sufficient to kill the strongest man. But it pleased him to be ruthlessly cruel and it also pleased him to think that we have abolished capital punishment in Russia.
Having written his decisioM
n about the student, he pushed it across to Chernyshov.
"There," he said, "read it."
Chernyshov read it, and bowed his head as a sign of respectful amazement at the wisdom of the decision.
"Yes, and let all the students be present on the drill- ground at the punishment," added Nicholas.
"It will do them good! I will abolish this revolutionary spirit and will tear it up by the roots!" he thought.
"It shall be done," replied Chernyshov; and after a short pause he straightened the tuft on his forehead aM
nd returned to the Caucasian report.
"What do you command me to write in reply to Prince Vorontsov's dispatch?"
"To keep firmly to my system of destroying the dwellings and food supplies in Chechnya and to harass them by raids." answered Nicholas.
"And what are your Majesty's commands with reference to Hadji Murat?" asked Chernyshov.
"Well, Vorontsov writes that he wants to make use of him in the Caucasus."
"Is it not dangerous?" said Chernyshov, avoiding Nicholas's gaze. "Prince Vorontsov is too conM
fiding, I am afraid."
"And you -- what do you think?" asked Nicholas sharply, detecting Chernyshov's intention of presenting Vorontsov's decision in an unfavorable light.
"Well, I should have thought it would be safer to deport him to Central Russia."
"You would have thought!" said Nicholas ironically. "But I don't think so, and agree with Vorontsov. Write to him accordingly."
"It shall be done," said Chernyshov, rising and bowing himself out.
Dolgoruky also bowed himself out, having during the wholeM
 audience only uttered a few words (in reply to a question from Nicholas) about the movement of the army.
After Chernyshov, Nicholas received Bibikov, General- Governor of the Western Provinces. Having expressed his approval of the measures taken by Bibikov against the mutinous peasants who did not wish to accept the orthodox Faith, he ordered him to have all those who did not submit tried by court-martial. that was equivalent to sentencing them to run the gantlet. He also ordered the editor of a newspaper to beM
 sent to serve in the ranks of the army for publishing information about the transfer of several thousand State peasants to the imperial estates.
"I do this because I consider it necessary," said Nicholas, "and I will not allow it to be discussed."
Bibikov saw the cruelty of the order concerning the Uniate peasants and the injustice of transferring State peasants (the only free peasants in Russia in those days) to the Crown, which meant making them serfs of the Imperial family. But it was impossible to expresM
s dissent. Not to agree with Nicholas's decisions would have meant the loss of that brilliant position which it had cost Bibikov forty years to attain and which he now enjoyed; and he therefore submissively bowed his dark head (already touched with gray) to indicate his submission and his readiness to fulfill the cruel, insensate, and dishonest supreme will.
Having dismissed Bibikov, Nicholas stretched himself, with a sense of duty well fulfilled, glanced at the clock, and went to get ready to go out. Having putM
 on a uniform with epaulets, orders, and a ribbon, he went out into the reception hall where more than a hundred persons -- men in uniforms and women in elegant low-necked dresses, all standing in the places assigned to them -- awaited his arrival with agitation.
He came out to them with a lifeless look in his eyes, his chest expanded, his stomach bulging out above and below its bandages, and feeling everybody's gaze tremulously and obsequiously fixed upon him he assumed an even more triumphant air. When his eyeM
s met those of people he knew, remembering who was who, he stopped and addressed a few words to them sometimes in Russian and sometimes in French, and transfixing them with his cold glassy eye listened to what they said.
Having received all the New year congratulations he passed on to church, where God, through His servants the priests, greeted and praised Nicholas just as worldly people did; and weary as he was of these greetings and praises Nicholas duly accepted them. All this was as it should be, because theM
 welfare and happiness of the whole world depended on him, and wearied though he was he would still not refuse the universe his assistance.
When at the end of the service the magnificently arrayed deacon, his long hair crimped and carefully combed, began the chant "Many Years," which was heartily caught up by the splendid choir, Nicholas looked round and noticed Nelidova, with her fine shoulders, standing by a window, and he decided the comparison with yesterday's girl in her favor.
After Mass he went to the M
empress and spent a few minutes in the bosom of his family, joking with the children and his wife. then passing through the Hermitage, he visited the Minister of the Court, Volkonski, and among other things ordered him to pay out of a special fund a yearly pension to the mother of yesterday's girl. From there he went for his customary drive.
Dinner that day was served in the Pompeian Hall. Besides the younger sons of Nicholas and Michael there were also invited Baron Lieven, Count Rzhevski, Dolgoruky, the PrussiM
an Ambassador, and the King of Prussia's aide-de-camp.
While waiting for the appearance of the Emperor and Empress an interesting conversation took place between Baron Lieven and the Prussian Ambassador concerning the disquieting news from Poland.
"La Pologne et le Caucases, ce sont les deux cauteres de la Russie," said Lieven. "Il nous faut dent mille hommes a peu pres, dans chcun de ces deux pays."
The Ambassador expressed a fictitious surprise that it should be so.
"Vous dites, la Pologne -- " began M
"Oh, oui, c'etait un coup de maitre de Metternich de nous en avoir laisse l'embarras. ... "
At this point the Empress, with her trembling head and fixed smile, entered followed by Nicholas.
At dinner Nicholas spoke of Hadji Murat's surrender and said that the war in the Caucasus must now soon come to an end in consequence of the measures he was taking to limit the scope of the mountaineers by felling their forests and by his system of erecting a series of small forts.
The Ambassador, havM
ing exchanged a rapid glance with the aide-de-camp -- to whom he had only that morning spoken about Nicholas's unfortunate weakness for considering himself a great strategist -- warmly praised this plan which once more demonstrated Nicholas's great strategic ability.
After dinner Nicholas drove to the ballet where hundreds of women marched round in tights and scanty clothing. One of the specially attracted him, and he had the German ballet-master sent for and gave orders that a diamond ring should be presented tM
The next day when Chernyshov came with his report, Nicholas again confirmed his order to Vorontsov -- that now that Hadji Murat had surrendered, the Chechens should be more actively harassed than ever and the cordon round them tightened.
Chernyshov wrote in that sense to Vorontsov; and another courier, overdriving more horses and bruising the faces of more drivers, galloped to Tiflis.
In obedience to this command of Nicholas a raid was immediately made in Chechnya that same month, JaM
The detachment ordered for the raid consisted of four infantry battalions, two companies of Cossacks, and eight guns. The column marched along the road; and on both sides of it in a continuous line, now mounting, now descending, marched Fagers in high boots, sheepskin coats, and tall caps, with rifles on their shoulders and cartridges in their belts.
As usual when marching through a hostile country, silence was observed as far as possible. Only occasionally the guns jingled jolting across a ditch,M
 or an artillery horse snorted or neighed, not understanding that silence was ordered, or an angry commander shouted in a hoarse subdued voice to his subordinates that the line was spreading out too much or marching too near or too far from the column. Only once was the silence broken, when from a bramble patch between the line and the column a gazelle with a white breast and gray back jumped out followed by a buck of the same color with small backward-curving horns. Doubling up their forelegs at each big bound theM
y took, the beautiful timid creatures came so close to the column that some of the soldiers rushed after them laughing and shouting, intending to bayonet them, but the gazelles turned back, slipped through the line of Fagers, and pursued by a few horsemen and the company's dogs, fled like birds to the mountains.
It was still winter, but towards noon, when the column (which had started early in the morning) had gone three miles, the sun had risen high enough and was powerful enough to make the men quite hot, and M
its rays were so bright that it was painful to look at the shining steel of the bayonets or at the reflections - - like little suns -- on the brass of the cannons.
The clear and rapid stream the detachment had just crossed lay behind, and in front were tilled fields and meadows in shallow valleys. Farther in front were the dark mysterious forest-clad hills with craigs rising beyond them, and farther still on the lofty horizon were the ever-beautiful ever-changing snowy peaks that played with the light like diamoM
At the head of the 5th Company, Butler, a tall handsome officer who had recently exchanged from the Guards, marched along in a black coat and tall cap, shouldering his sword. He was filled with a buoyant sense of the joy of living, the danger of death, a wish for action, and the consciousness of being part of an immense whole directed by a single will. This was his second time of going into action and he thought how in a moment they would be fired at, and he would not only not stoop when the shells flew oveM
rhead, or heed the whistle of the bullets, but would carry his head even more erect than before and would look round at his comrades and the soldiers with smiling eyes, and begin to talk in a perfectly calm voice about quite other matters.
The detachment turned off the good road onto a little-used one that crossed a stubbly maize field, ant they were drawing near the forest when, with an ominous whistle, a shell flew past amid the baggage wagons -- they could not see whence -- and tore up the ground in the fieldM
"It's beginning," said Butler with a bright smile to a comrade who was walking beside him.
And so it was. After the shell a thick crowd of mounted Chechens appeared with their banners from under the shelter of the forest. In the midst of the crowd could be seen a large green banner, and an old and very far-sighted sergeant-major informed the short-sighted Butler that Shamil himself must be there. The horsemen came down the hiss and appeared to the right, at the highest part of the valley neaM
rest the detachment, and began to descend. A little general in a thick black coat and tall cap rode up to Butler's company on his ambler, and ordered him to the right to encounter the descending horsemen. Butler quickly led his company in the direction indicated, but before he reached the valley he heard two cannon shots behind him. He looked round: two clouds of gray smoke had risen above two cannon and were spreading along the valley. The mountaineers' horsemen -- who had evidently not expected to meet artillery M
-- retired. Butler's company began firing at them and the whole ravine was filled with the smoke of powder. Only higher up above the ravine could the mountaineers be seen hurriedly retreating, though still firing back at the Cossacks who pursued them. The company followed the mountaineers farther, and on the slope of a second ravine came in view of an aoul.
Following the Cossacks, Butler and his company entered the aoul at a run, to find it deserted. The soldiers were ordered to burn the corn and the hay as wellM
 as the saklyas, and the whole aoul was soon filled with pungent smoke amid which the soldiers rushed about dragging out of the saklyas what they could find, and above all catching and shooting the fowls the mountaineers had not been able to take away with them.
The officers sat down at some distance beyond the smoke, and lunched and drank. The sergeant-major brought them some honeycombs on a board. There was no sigh of any Chechens and early in the afternoon the order was given to retreat. The companies formed M
into a column behind the aoul and Butler happened to be in the rearguard. As soon as they started Chechens appeared, following and firing at the detachment, but they ceased this pursuit as soon as they came out into an open space.
Not one of Butler's company had been wounded, and he returned in a most happy and energetic mood. When after fording the same stream it had crossed in the morning, the detachment spread over the maize fields and the meadows, the singers of each company came forward and songs filled theM
"Verry diff'rent, very diff'rent, Fagers are, Fagers are!" sang Butler's singers, and his horse stepped merrily to the music. Trezorka, the shaggy gray dog belonging to the company, ran in front, with his tail curled up with an air of responsibility like a commander. Butler felt buoyant, calm, and joyful. War presented itself to him as consisting only in his exposing himself to danger and to possible death, thereby gaining rewards and the respect of his comrades here, as well as of his friends in Russia. SM
trange to say, his imagination never pictured the other aspect of war: the death and wounds of the soldiers, officers, and mountaineers. To retain his poetic conception he even unconsciously avoided looking at the dead and wounded. So that day when we had three dead and twelve wounded, he passed by a corpse lying on its back and did not stop to look, seeing only with one eye the strange position of the waxen hand and a dark red spot on the head. The hosslmen appeared to him only a mounted dzhigits from whom he had M
"You see, my dear sir," said his major in an interval between two songs, "it's not as it is with you in Petersburg -- 'Eyes right! Eyes left!' Here we have done our job, and now we go home and Masha will set a pie and some nice cabbage soup before us. That's life -- don't you think so? -- Now then! As the Dawn Was Breaking!" He called for his favorite song.
There was no wind, the air was fresh and clear and so transparent that the snow hills nearly a hundred miles away seemed quite near, anM
d in the intervals between the songs the regular sound of the footsteps and the jingle of the guns was heard as a background on which each song began and ended. The song that was being sung in Butler's company was composed by a cadet in honor of the regiment, and went to a dance tune. The chorus was: "Verry diff'rent, very diff'rent, Fagers are, Fagers are!"
Butler rode beside the officer next in rank above him, Major Petrov, with whom he lived, and he felt he could not be thankful enough to have exchanged from M
the Guards and come to the Caucasus. His chief reason for exchanging was that he had lost all he had at cards and was afraid that if he remained there he would be unable to resist playing though he had nothing more to lose. Now all that was over, his life was quite changed and was such a pleasant and brave one! He forgot that he was ruined, and forgot his unpaid debts. The Caucasus, the war, the soldiers, the officers -- those tipsy, brave, good-natured fellows -- and Major Petrov himself, all seemed so delightful M
that sometimes it appeared too good to be true that he was not in Petersburg -- in a room filled with tobacco smoke, turning down the corners of cards and gambling, hating the holder of the bank and feeling a dull pain in his head -- but was really here in this glorious region among these brave Caucasians.
The major and the daughter of a surgeon's orderly, formerly known as Masha, but now generally called by the more respectful name of Marya Dmitrievna, lived together as man and wife. Marya Dmitrievna was a handM
some, fair-haired, very freckled, childless woman of thirty. Whatever her past may have been she was now the major's faithful companion and looked after him like a nurse -- a very necessary matter, since he often drank himself into oblivion.
When they reached the fort everything happened as the major had foreseen. Marya Dmitrievna gave him and Butler, and two other officers of the detachment who had been invited, a nourishing and tasty dinner, and the major ate and drank till he was unable to speak, and then wenM
t off to his room to sleep.
Butler, having drunk rather more chikhir wine than was good for him, went to his bedroom, tired but contented, and hardly had time to undress before he fell into a sound, dreamless, and unbroken sleep with his hand under his handsome curly head.
The soul which had been destroyed was that in which Hadji Murat had spent the night before he went over to the Russians. Sado and his family had left the aoul on the approach of the Russian detachment, and when he returned hM
e found his saklya in ruins -- the roof fallen in, the door and the posts supporting the penthouse burned, and the interior filthy. His son, the handsome bright-eyed boy who had gazed with such ecstasy at Hadji Murat, was brought dead to the mosque on a horse covered with a barka; he had been stabbed in the back with a bayonet. the dignified woman who had served Hadji Murat when he was at the house now stood over her son's body, her smock torn in front, her withered old breasts exposed, her hair down, and she dug hM
er hails into her face till it bled, and wailed incessantly. Sado, taking a pick-ax and spade, had gone with his relatives to dig a grave for his son. The old grandfather sat by the wall of the ruined saklya cutting a stick and gazing stolidly in front of him. He had only just returned from the apiary. The two stacks of hay there had been burnt, the apricot and cherry trees he had planted and reared were broken and scorched, and worse still all the beehives and bees had been burnt. The wailing of the women and the M
little children, who cried with their mothers, mingled with the lowing of the hungry cattle for whom there was no food. The bigger children, instead of playing, followed their elders with frightened eyes. The fountain was polluted, evidently on purpose, so that the water could not be used. The mosque was polluted in the same way, and the Mullah and his assistants were cleaning it out. No one spoke of hatred of the Russians. The feeling experienced by all the Chechens, from the youngest to the oldest, was stronger tM
han hate. It was not hatred, for they did not regard those Russian dogs as human beings, but it was such repulsion, disgust, and perplexity at the senseless cruelty of these creatures, that the desire to exterminate them -- like the desire to exterminate rats, poisonous spiders, or wolves -- was as natural an instinct as that of self-preservation.
The inhabitants of the aoul were confronted by the choice of remaining there and restoring with frightful effort what had been produced with such labor and had been soM
 lightly and senselessly destroyed, facing every moment the possibility of a repetition of what had happened; or to submit to the Russians -- contrary to their religion and despite the repulsion and contempt they felt for them. The old men prayed, and unanimously decided to send envoys to Shamil asking him for help. Then they immediately set to work to restore what had been destroyed.
On the morning after the raid, not very early, Butler left the house by the back porch meaning to take a stroll aM
nd a breath of fresh air before breakfast, which he usually had with Petrov. The sun had already risen above the hills and it was painful to look at the brightly lit-up white walls of the houses on the right side of the street. But then as always it was cheerful and soothing to look to the left, at the dark receding and ascending forest-clad hills and at the dim line of snow peaks, which as usual pretended to be clouds. Butler looked at these mountains, inhaling deep breaths and rejoicing that he was alive, that itM
 was just he that was alive, and that he lived in this beautiful place.
He was also rather pleased that he had behaved so well in yesterday's affair both during the advance and especially during the retreat when things were pretty hot; he was also pleased to remember how Masha (or Marya Dmitrievna), Petrov's mistress, had treated them at dinner on their return after the raid, and how she had been particularly nice and simple with everybody, but specially kind -- as he thought -- to him.
Marya Dmitrievna with M
her thick plait of hair, her broad shoulders, her high bosom, and the radiant smile on her kindly freckled face, involuntarily attracted Butler, who was a healthy young bachelor. It sometimes even seemed to him that she wanted him, but he considered that that would be doing his good-natured simple-hearted comrade a wrong, and he maintained a simple, respectful attitude towards her and was pleased with himself for doing so.
He was thinking of this when his meditations were disturbed by the tramp of many horses' hM
oofs along the dusty road in front of him, as if several men were riding that way. He looked up and saw at the end of the street a group of horsemen coming towards him at a walk. In front of a score of Cossacks rode two men: one in a white Circassian coat with a tall turban on his head, the other an officer in the Russian service, dark, with an aquiline nose, and much silver on his uniform and weapons. The man with the turban rode a fine chestnut horse with mane and tail of a lighter shade, a small head, and beautiM
ful eyes. The officer's was a large, handsome Karabakh horse. Butler, a lover of horses, immediately recognized the great strength of the first horse and stopped to learn who these people were.
The officer addressed him. "this the house of commanding officer?" he asked, his foreign accent and his words betraying his foreign origin.
Butler replied that it was. "And who is that?" he added, coming nearer to the officer and indicating the man with the turban.
"That Hadji Murat. He come here to stay with the coM
mmander," said the officer.
Butler knew about Hadji Murat and about his having come over to the Russians, but he had not at all expected to see him here in this little fort. Hadji Murat gave him a friendly look.
"Good day, Kotkildy," said Butler, repeating the Tartar greeting he had learned.
"Saubul!" ("Be well!") replied Hadji Murat, nodding. He rode up to Butler and held out his hand, from two fingers of which hung his whip.
"Are you the chief?" he asked.
"No, the chief is in here. I will go and caM
ll him," said Butler addressing the officer, and he went up the steps and pushed the door. But the door of the visitors' entrance, as Marya Dmitrievna called it, was locked, and as it still remained closed after he had knocked, Butler went round to the back door. He called his orderly but received no reply, and finding neither of the two orderlies he went into the kitchen, where Marya Dmitrievna -- flushed with a kerchief tied round her head and her sleeves rolled up on her plump white arms -- was rolling pastry, wM
hite as her hands, and cutting it into small pieces to make pies of.
"Where have the orderlies gone to?" asked Butler.
"Gone to drink," replied Marya Dmitrievna. "What do you want?"
"To have the front door opened. You have a whole horde of mountaineers in front of your house. Hadji Murat has come!"
"Invent something else!" said Marya Dmitrievna, smiling.
"I am not joking, he is really waiting by the porch!"
"Is it really true?" said she.
"Why should I wish to deceive you? Go and see, he's just M
"Dear me, here's a go!" said Marya Dmitrievna pulling down her sleeves and putting up her hand to feel whether the hairpins in her thick plait were all in order. "Then I will go and wake Ivan Matveich."
"No, I'll go myself. and you Bondarenko, go and open the door," said he to Petrov's orderly who had just appeared.
"Well, so much the better!" said Marya Dmitrievna and returned to her work.
When he heard that Hadji Murat had come to his house, Ivan Matveich Petrov, the major, who had alreM
ady heard that Hadji Murat was in Grozny, was not at all surprised. Sitting up in bed he rolled a cigarette, lit it, and began to dress, loudly clearing his throat and grumbling at the authorities who had sent "that devil" to him.
When he was ready he told his orderly to bring him some medicine. The orderly knew that "medicine" meant vodka, and brought some.
"There is nothing so bad as mixing," muttered the major when he had drunk the vodka and taken a bite of rye bread. "Yesterday I drank a little chikhir anM
d now I have a headache. ... Well, I'm ready," he added, and went to the parlor, into which Butler had already shown Hadji Murat and the officer who accompanied him.
The officer handed the major orders from the commander of the left flank to the effect that he should receive Hadji Murat and should allow him to have intercourse with the mountaineers through spies, but was on no account to allow him to leave the fort without a convoy of Cossacks.
Having read the order the major looked intently at Hadji Murat anM
d again scrutinized the paper. After passing his eyes several times from one to the other in this manner, he at last fixed them on Hadji Murat and said:
"Yakshi, Bek; yakshi! ("very well, sir, very well!") Let him stay here, and tell him I have orders not to let him out -- and what is commanded is sacred! Well, Butler, where do you think we'd better lodge him? Shall we put him in the office?"
Butler had not time to answer before Marya Dmitrievna -- who had come from the kitchen and was standing in the doorwayM
 -- said to the major:
"Why? Keep him here! We will give him the guest chamber and the storeroom. Then at any rate he will be within sight," said she, glancing at Hadji Murat; but meeting his eyes she turned quickly away.
"do you know, I think marya Dmitrievna is right," said Butler.
"Now then, now then, get away! Women have no business here," said the major frowning.
During the whole of this discussion Hadji Murat sat with his hand on the hilt of his dagger and a faint smile of contempt on his lips. HeM
 said it was all the same to him where he lodged, and that he wanted nothing but what the Sirdar had permitted -- namely, to have communication with the mountaineers, and that he therefore wished they should be allowed to come to him.
The major said this should be done, and asked Butler to entertain the visitors till something could be got for them to eat and their rooms prepared. Meanwhile he himself would go across to the office to write what was necessary and to give some orders.
Hadji Murat's relations wiM
th his new acquaintances were at once very clearly defined. From the first he was repelled by and contemptuous of the major, to whom he always behaved very haughtily. Marya Dmitrievna, who prepared and served up his food, pleased him particularly. He liked her simplicity and especially the -- to him -- foreign type of her beauty, and he was influenced by the attraction she felt towards him and unconsciously conveyed. He tried not to look at her or speak to her, but his eyes involuntarily turned towards her and follM
owed her movements. With butler, from their first acquaintance, he immediately made friends and talked much and willingly with him, questioning him about his life, telling him of his own, communicating to him the news the spies brought him of his family's condition, and even consulting him as to how he ought to act.
The news he received through the spies was not good. During the first four days of his stay in the fort they came to see him twice and both times brought bad news.
mily had been removed to Vedeno soon after his desertion to the Russians, and were there kept under guard awaiting Shamil's decision. The women -- his old mother Patimat and his two wives with their five little children -- were kept under guard in the saklya of the officer Ibrahim Raschid, while Hadji Murat's son Yusuf, a youth of eighteen, was put in prison - - that is, into a pit more than seven feet deep, together with seven criminals, who like himself were awaiting a decision as to their fate.
as delayed because Shamil was away on a campaign against the Russians.
On January 6, 1852, he returned to Vedeno after a battle, in which according to the Russians he had been vanquished and had fled to Vedeno; but in which according to him and all the murids he had been victorious and had repulsed the Russians. In this battle he himself fired his rifle -- a thing he seldom did -- and drawing his sword would have charged straight at the Russians had not the murids who accompanied him held him back. Two of them wM
ere killed on the spot at his side.
It was noon when Shamil, surrounded by a party of murids who caracoled around him firing their rifles and pistols and continually singing Lya illya il Allah! rode up to his place of residence.
All the inhabitants of the large aoul were in the street or on their roofs to meet their ruler, and as a sign of triumph they also fired off rifles and pistols. Shamil rode a white Arab steed which pulled at its bit as it approached the house. The horse had no gold or silver ornamentsM
, its equipment was of the simplest -- a delicately worked red leather bridle with a stripe down the middle, metal cup-shaped stirrups, and a red saddlecloth showing a little from under the saddle. The Imam wore a brown cloth cloak liked with black fur showing at the neck and sleeves, and was tightly girded round his long thin waist with a black strap which held a dagger. On his head he wore a tall cap with flat crown and black tassel, and round it was wound a white turban, one end of which hung down on his neck. HM
e wore green slippers, and black leggings trimmed with plain braid.
He wore nothing bright -- no gold or silver -- and his tall, erect, powerful figure, clothed in garments without any ornaments, surrounded by murids with gold and silver on their clothes and weapons produced on the people just the impression and influence he desired and knew how to produce. His pale face framed by a closely trimmed reddish beard, with his small eyes always screwed up, was as immovable as though hewn out of stone. As he rode throM
ugh the aoul he felt the gaze of a thousand eyes turned eagerly on him, but he himself looked at no one.
Hadji Murat's wives had come out into the penthouse with the rest of the inmates of the saklya to see the Imam's entry. Only Patimat, Hadji Murat's old mother, did not go out but remained sitting on the floor of the saklya with her gray hair down, her long arms encircling her thin knees, blinking with her fiery black eyes as she watched the dying embers in the fireplace. Like her son she had always hated ShamM
il, and now she hated him more than ever and had no wish to see him. Neither did Hadji Murat's son see Shamil's triumphal entry. Sitting in the dark and fetid pit he heard the firing and singing and endured tortures such as can only be felt by the young who are full of vitality and deprived of freedom. He only saw his unfortunate, dirty, and exhausted fellow-prisoners -- embittered and for the most part filled with hatred of one another. He now passionately envied those who, enjoying fresh air and light and freedomM
, caracoled on fiery steeds around their chief, shooting and heartily singing: Lya illyah il Allah!
When he had crossed the aoul Shamil rode into the large courtyard adjoining the inner court where his seraglio was. Two armed Lesghians met him at the open gates of this outer court, which was crowded with people. Some had come from distant parts about their own affairs, some had come with petitions, and some had been summoned by Shamil to be tried and sentenced. As the Imam rode in, they all respectfully saluted M
him with their hands on their breasts, some of them kneeling down and remaining on their knees while he rode across the court from the outer to the inner gates. Though he recognized among the people who waited in the court many whom he disliked, and many tedious petitioners who wanted his attention, Shamil passed them all with the same immovable, stony expression on his face, and having entered the inner court dismounted at the penthouse in front of his apartment, to the left of the gate. He was worn out, mentally M
rather than physically, by the strain of the campaign, for in spite of the public declaration that he had been victorious he knew very well that his campaign had been unsuccessful, that many Chechen aouls had been burnt down and ruined, and that the unstable and fickle Chechens were wavering and those nearest the border line were ready to go over to the Russians.
All this had to be dealt with, and it oppressed him, for at that moment he did not wish to think at all. He only desired one thing: rest and the delighM
ts of family life, and the caresses of his favorite wife, the black-eyed quick-footed eighteen-year-old Aminal, who at that very moment was close at hand behind the fence that divided the inner court and separated the men's from the women's quarters (Shamil felt sure she was there with his other wives, looking through a chink in the fence while he dismounted). but not only was it impossible for him to go to her, he could not even lie down on his feather cushions and rest from his fatigue; he had first of all to perM
form the midday rites for which he had just then not the least inclination, but which as the religious leader of the people he could not omit, and which moreover were as necessary to him himself as his daily food. So he performed his ablutions and said his prayers and summoned those who were waiting for him.
The first to enter was Jemal Eddin, his father-in-law and teacher, a tall gray-haired good-looking old man with a beard white as snow and a rosy red face. He said a prayer and began questioning Shamil about M
the incidents of the campaign and telling him what had happened in the mountains during his absence.
Among events of many kinds -- murders connected with blood- feuds, cattle stealing, people accused of disobeying the Tarikat (smoking and drinking wine) -- Jemal Eddin related how Hadji Murat had sent men to bring his family over to the Russians, but that this had been detected and the family had been brought to Vedeno where they were kept under guard and awaited the Imam's decision. In the next room, the guest-cM
hamber, the Elders were assembled to discuss all these affairs, and Jemal Eddin advised Shamil to finish with them and let them go that same day, as they had already been waiting three days for him.
After eating his dinner -- served to him in his room by Zeidat, a dark, sharp-nosed, disagreeable-looking woman whom he did not love but who was his eldest wife -- Shamil passed into the guest chamber.
The six old men who made up his council -- white, gray, or red-bearded, with tall caps on their heads, some with M
turbans and some without, wearing new beshmets and Circassian coats girdled with straps on which their daggers were suspended -- rose to greet him on his entrance. Shamil towered a head above them all. On entering the room he, as well as all the others, lifted his hands, palms upwards, closed his eyes and recited a prayer, and then stroked his face downward with both hands, uniting them at the end of his beard. Having done this they all sat down, Shamil on a larger cushion than the others, and discussed the variousM
In the case of the criminals the decisions were given according to the Shariat: two were sentenced to have a hand cut off for stealing, one man to be beheaded for murder, and three were pardoned. Then they came to the principal business: how to stop the Chechens from going over to the Russians. To counteract that tendency Jemal Eddin drew up the following proclamation:
"I wish you eternal peace with God the Almighty!
"I hear that the Russians flatter you and invite you to surrender to tM
hem. Do not believe what they say, and do not surrender but endure. If ye be not rewarded for it in this life ye shall receive your reward in the life to come. Remember what happened before when they took your arms from you! If God had not brought you to reason then, in 1840, ye would now be soldiers, and your wives would be dishonored and would no longer wear trousers.
"Judge of the future by the past. It is better to die in enmity with the Russians than to live with the Unbelievers. Endure for a little while aM
nd I will come with the Koran and the sword and will lead you against the enemy. But now I strictly command you not only to entertain no intention, but not even a thought, of submitting to the Russians!"
Shamil approved this proclamation, signed it, and had it sent out.
After this business they considered Hadji Murat's case. This was of the utmost importance to Shamil. Although he did not wish to admit it, he knew that if Hadji Murat with his agility, boldness, and courage, had been with him, what had now hapM
pened in Chechnya would not have occurred. It would therefore be well to make it up with Hadji Murat and have the benefit of his services again. But as this was possible it would never do to allow him to help the Russians, and therefore he must enticed back and killed. They might accomplish this either by sending a man to Tiflis who would kill him there, or by inducing him to come back and then killing him. The only means of doing the latter was by making use of his family and especially his son, whom Shamil knew hM
e loved passionately. Therefore they must act through the son.
When the councilors had talked all this over, Shamil closed his eyes and sat silent.
The councilors knew that this meant that he was listening to the voice of the Prophet, who spoke to him and told him what to do.
After five minutes of solemn silence Shamil opened his eyes, and narrowing them more than usual, said:
"Bring Hadji Murat's son to me."
"He is here," replied Jemal Eddin, and in fact Yusuf, Hadji Murat's son, thin, pale, tattereM
d, and evil-smelling, but still handsome in face and figure, with black eyes that burnt like his grandmother Patimat's, was already standing by the gate of the outside court waiting to be called in.
Yusuf did not share his father's feelings towards Shamil. He did not know all that had happened in the past, or if he knew it, not having lived through it he still did not understand why his father was so obstinately hostile to Shamil. To him who wanted only one thing -- to continue living the easy life that, as the M
naib's son, he had led in Kuhzakh -- it seemed quite unnecessary to be at enmity with Shamil. Out of defiance and a spirit of contradiction to his father he particularly admired Shamil, and shared the ecstatic adoration with which he was regarded in the mountains. With a peculiar feeling of tremulous veneration for the Imam he now entered the guest chamber. As he stopped by the door he met the steady gaze of Shamil's half- closed eyes. He paused for a moment, and then approached Shamil and kissed his large, long-fiM
"Thou are Hadji Murat's son?"
"Thou knowest what he has done?"
"I know, Imam, and deplore it."
"I was preparing myself to be a Mullah -- "
"then write to thy father that if he will return to me now, before the Feast of Bairam, I will forgive him and everything shall be as it was before; but if not, and if he remains with the Russians" -- and Shamil frowned sternly -- "I will give thy grandmother, thy mother, and the rest to the different aouls, andM
 thee I will behead!"
Not a muscle of Yusuf's face stirred, and he bowed his head to show that he understood Shamil's words.
"Write that and give it to my messenger."
Shamil ceased speaking, and looked at Yusuf for a long time in silence.
"Write that I have had pity on thee and will not kill thee, but will put out thine eyes as I do to all traitors! ... Go!"
While in Shamil's presence Yusuf appeared calm, but when he had been led out of the guest chamber he rushed at his attendant, snatched the man'sM
 dagger from its sheath and tried to stab himself, but he was seized by the arms, bound, and led back to the pit.
That evening at dusk after he had finished his evening prayers, Shamil put on a white fur-lined cloak and passed out to the other side of the fence where his wives lived, and went straight to Aminal's room, but he did not find her there. She was with the older wives. Then Shamil, trying to remain unseen, hid behind the door and stood waiting for her. But Aminal was angry with him because he had givenM
 some silk stuff to Zeidat and not to her. She saw him come out and go into her room looking for her, and she purposely kept away. She stood a long time at the door of Zeidat's room, laughing softly at Shamil's white figure that kept going in and out of her room.
Having waited for her in vain, Shamil returned to his own apartments when it was already time for the midnight prayers.
Hadji Murat had been a week in the major's house at the fort. Although Marya Dmitrievna quarreled with the shaggy M
Khanefi (Hadji Murat had only brought two of his murids, Khanefi and Eldar, with him) and had turned him out of her kitchen -- for which he nearly killed her -- she evidently felt a particular respect and sympathy for Hadji Murat. She now no longer served him his dinner, having handed that duty over to Eldar, but she seized every opportunity of seeing him and rendering him service. She always took the liveliest interest in the negotiations about his family, knew how many wives and children he had, and their ages, aM
nd each time a spy came to see him she inquired as best she could into the results of the negotiations.
Butler during that week had become quite friendly with Hadji Murat. Sometimes the latter came to Butler's room, sometimes Butler went to Hadji Murat's: sometimes they conversed by the help of the interpreter, and sometimes they got on as best they could with signs and especially with smiles.
Hadji Murat had evidently taken a fancy to Butler, as could be gathered from Eldar's relations with the latter. When M
Butler entered Hadji Murat's room Eldar met him with a pleased smile showing his glittering teeth, and hurried to put down a cushion for him to sit on and to relieve him of his sword if he was wearing one.
Butler also got to know, and became friendly with, the shaggy Khanefi, Hadji Murat's sworn brother. Khanefi knew many mountain songs and sang them well, and to please Butler, Hadji Murat often made Khanefi sing, choosing the songs he considered best. Khanefi had a high tenor voice and sang with extraordinary cM
learness and expression. One of the songs Hadji Murat specially liked impressed Butler by its solemnly mournful tone and he asked the interpreter to translate it.
The subject of the song was the very blood-feud that had existed between Khanefi and Hadji Murat. It ran as follows:
The earth will dry on my grave,
And thou wilt forget me!
And over me rank grass will wave,
Nor wilt thou regret me
When tears cease thy dark eyes to lave,
 No more will grief fret thee!
But thou, my Brother the elder, wilt never forget,
With vengeance denied me!
And thou, my Brother the younger, wilt ever regret,
Till thou liest beside me!
Hotly thou camest, O death-bearing ball that I spurned,
For thou wast my slave!
And thou, black earth, that battle-steed trampled and churned
Wilt cover my grave!
Cold art Thou, O Death, yet I was thy Lord and thy Master!
My body sinks fast to the earth, my soul to Heaven flies
Hadji Murat always listened to this song with closed eyes and when it ended on a long gradually dying note he always remarked in Russian --
"Good song! Wise song!"
After Hadji Murat's arrival and his intimacy with him and his murids, the poetry of the stirring mountain life took a still stronger hold on Butler. He procured for himself a beshmet and a Circassian coat and leggings, and imagined himself a mountaineer living the life those people lived.
On the day of Hadji Murat's departure the major invited M
several officers to see him off. They were sitting, some at the table where Marya Dmitrievna was pouring out tea, some at another table on which stood vodka, chekhir, and light refreshments, when Hadji Murat dressed for the journey came limping into the room with soft, rapid footsteps.
They all rose and shook hands with him. the major offered him a seat on the divan, but Hadji Murat thanked him and sat down on a chair by the window.
The silence that followed his entrance did not at all abash him. He looked atM
tentively at all the faces and fixed an indifferent gaze on the tea-table with the samovar and refreshments. Petrovsky, a lively officer who now met Hadji Murat for the first time, asked him through the interpreter whether he liked Tiflis.
"He says 'Yes'," translated the interpreter.
"What did he like there?"
Hadji Murat said something in reply.
"He liked the theater best of all."
"And how did he like the ball at the house of the commander- in-chief?"
Hadji Murat frowned. "EM
very nation has its own customs! Our women do not dress in such a way," said he, glancing at Marya Dmitrievna.
"Well, didn't he like it?"
"We have a proverb," said Hadji Murat to the interpreter, "'The dog gave meat to the ass and the ass gave hay to the dog, and both went hungry,'" and he smiled. "Its own customs seem good to each nation."
the conversation went no farther. Some of the officers took tea, some other refreshments. Hadji Murat accepted the tumbler of tea offered him and put it down before himM
"Won't you have cream and a bun?" asked Marya Dmitrievna, offering them to him.
Hadji Murat bowed his head.
"Well, I suppose it is good-bye!" said Butler, touching his knee. "When shall we meet again?"
"Good-bye, good-bye!" said Hadji Murat, in Russian, with a smile. "Kunak bulug. Strong kunak to thee! Time -- ayda -- go!" and he jerked his head in the direction in which he had to go.
Eldar appeared in the doorway carrying something large and white across his shoulder and a sword in his hand. HadjiM
 Murat beckoned to him and he crossed the room with big strides and handed him a white burka and the sword. Hadji Murat rose, took the burka, threw it over his arm, and saying something to the interpreter handed it to Marya Dmitrievna.
"He says thou has praised the burka, so accept it," said the interpreter.
"Oh, why?" said Marya Dmitrievna blushing.
"It is necessary. Like Adam," said Hadji Murat.
"Well, thank you," said Marya Dmitrievna, taking the burka. "God grant that you rescue your son," she addedM
. "Ulan yakshi. Tell him that I wish him success in releasing his son."
Hadji Murat glanced at Marya Dmitrievna and nodded his head approvingly. Then he took the sword from Eldar and handed it to the major. The major took it and said to the interpreter, "Tell him to take my chestnut gelding. I have nothing else to give him."
Hadji Murat waved his hand in front of his face to show that he did not want anything and would not accept it. Then, pointing first to the mountains and then to his heart, he went out.
All the household followed him as far as the door, while the officers who remained inside the room drew the sword from its scabbard, examined its blade, and decided that it was a real Gurda.
Butler accompanied Hadji Murat to the porch, and then came a very unexpected incident which might have ended fatally for Hadji Murat had it not been for his quick observation, determination, and agility.
the inhabitants of the Kumukh aoul, Tash-Kichu, which was friendly to the Russians, respected Hadji Murat greatly and M
had often come to the fort merely to look at the famous naib. They had sent messengers to him three days previously to ask him to visit their mosque on the Friday. But the Kumukh princes who lived in Tash-Kichu hated Hadji Murat because there was a blood- feud between them, and on hearing of this invitation they announced to the people that they would not allow him to enter the mosque. The people became excited and a fight occurred between them and the princes' supporters. The Russian authorities pacified the mountM
aineers and sent word to Hadji Murat not to go to the mosque.
Hadji Murat did not go and everyone supposed that the matter was settled.
But at the very moment of his departure, when he came out into the porch before which the horses stood waiting, Arslan Khan, one of the Kumukh princes and an acquaintance of Butler and the major, rode up to the house.
When he saw Hadji Murat he snatched a pistol from his belt and took aim, but before he could fire, Hadji Murat in spite of his lameness rushed down from the M
porch like a cat towards Arslan Khan who missed him.
Seizing Arslan Khan's horse by the bridle with one hand, Hadji Murat drew his dagger with the other and shouted something to him in Tartar.
Butler and Eldar both ran at once towards the enemies and caught them by the arms. The major, who had heard the shot, also came out.
"What do you mean by it, Arslan -- starting such a nasty business on my premises?" said he, when he heard what had happened. "It's not right, friend! 'To the foe in the field you need nM
ot yield!' -- but to start this kind of slaughter in front of my house -- '
Arslan Khan, a little man with black mustaches, got off his horse pale and trembling, looked angrily at Hadji Murat, and went into the house with the major. Hadji Murat, breathing heavily and smiling, returned to the horses.
"Why did he want to kill him?" Butler asked the interpreter.
"He says it is a law of theirs," the interpreter translated Hadji Murat's reply. "Arslan must avenge a relation's blood and so he tried to kill him."M
"and supposing he overtakes him on the road?" asked Butler.
"Well, if he kills me it will prove that such is Allah's will. ... Good-bye," he said again in Russian, taking his horse by the withers. Glancing round at everybody who had come out to see him off, his eyes rested kindly on Marya Dmitrievna.
"Good-bye, my lass," said he to her. "I thank you."
"God help you -- Gold help you to rescue your family!" repeated Marya Dmitrievna.
He did not understand her words, but felt herM
 sympathy for him and nodded to her.
"Mind, don't forget your kunak," said Butler.
"Tell him I am his true friend and will never forget him," answered Hadji Murat to the interpreter, and in spite of his short leg he swung himself lightly and quickly into the high saddle, barely touching the stirrup, and automatically feeling for his dagger and adjusting his sword. Then, with that peculiarly proud look with which only a Caucasian hill-man sits his horse -- as though he were one with it -- he rode away from theM
 major's house. Khanefi and Eldar also mounted and having taken a friendly leave of their hosts and of the officers, rode off at a trot, following their murshid.
As usual after a departure, those who remained behind began to discuss those who had left.
"Plucky fellow! He rushed at Arslan Khan like a wolf! His face quite changed!"
"But he'll be up to tricks -- he's a terrible rogue, I should say," remarked Petrovsky.
"It's a pity there aren't more Russian rogues of such a kind!" suddenly put in Marya DmiM
trievna with vexation. "He has lived a week with us and we have seen nothing but good from him. He is courteous, wise, and just," she added.
"How did you find that out?"
"No matter, I did find it out!"
"She's quite smitten, and that's a fact!" said the major, who had just entered the room.
"Well, and if I am smitten? What's that to you? Why run him down if he's a good man? Though he's a Tartar he's still a good man!"
"Quite true, Marya Dmitrievna," said Butler, "and you're quite right to take his parM
Life in our advanced forts in the Chechen lines went on as usual. Since the events last narrated there had been two alarms when the companies were called out and militiamen galloped about; but both times the mountaineers who had caused the excitement got away, and once at Vozdvizhensk they killed a Cossack and succeeded in carrying off eight Cossack horses that were being watered. there had been no further raids since the one in which the aoul was destroyed, but an expedition on a large scaleM
 was expected in consequence of the appointment of a new commander of the left flank, Prince Baryatinsky. He was an old friend of the Viceroy's and had been in command of the Kabarda Regiment. On his arrival at Grozny as commander of the whole left flank he at once mustered a detachment to continue to carry out the Czar's commands as communicated by Chernyshov to Vorontsov. The detachment mustered at Vozdvizhensk left the fort and took up a position towards Kurin, where the troops were encamped and were felling theM
 forest. Young Vorontsov lived in a splendid cloth tent, and his wife, Marya Vasilevna, often came to the camp and stayed the night. Baryatinsky's relations with Marya Vasilevna were no secret to anyone, and the officers who were not in the aristocratic set and the soldiers abused her in coarse terms -- for her presence in camp caused them to be told off to lie in ambush at night. The mountaineers were in the habit of bringing guns with range and firing shells at the camp. The shells generally missed their aim and M
therefore at ordinary times no special measures were taken to prevent such firing, but now men were placed in ambush to hinder the mountaineers from injuring or frightening Marya Vasilevna with their cannon. To have to be always lying in ambush at night to save a lady from being frightened, offended and annoyed them, and therefore the soldiers, as well as the officers not admitted to the higher society, called Marya Vasilevna bad names.
Having obtained leave of absence from his fort, Butler came to the camp to vM
isit some old mess-mates from the cadet corps and fellow officers of the Kurin regiment who were serving as adjutants and orderly officers. When he first arrived he had a very good time. He put up in Poltoratsky's tent and there met many acquaintances who gave him a hearty welcome. He also called on Vorontsov, whom he knew slightly, having once served in the same regiment with him. Vorontsov received him very kindly, introduced him to Prince Baryatinsky, and invited him to the farewell dinner he was giving in honorM
 of General Kozlovsky, who until Baryatinsky's arrival had been in command of the left flank.
The dinner was magnificent. Special tents were erected in a line, and along the whole length of them a table was spread as for a dinner-party, with dinner services and bottles. Everything recalled life in the Guards in Petersburg. Dinner was served at two o-clock. Kozlovsky sat in the middle on one side. Baryatinsky on the other. At Kozlovsky's right and left hand sat the Vorontsovs, husband and wife. All along the tablM
e on both sides sat the officers of the Kabarda and Kurin regiments. Butler sat next to Poltoratsky and they both chatted merrily and drank with the officers around them. When the roast was served and the orderlies had gone round and filled the champagne glasses, Poltoratsky said to Butler, with real anxiety:
"Our Kozlovsky will disgrace himself!"
"Why, he'll have to make a speech, and what good is he at that? ... .It's not as easy as capturing entrenchments under fire! And with a lady beside him toM
o, and these aristocrats!"
"Really it's painful to look at him," said the officers to one another. And now the solemn moment had arrived. Baryatinsky rose and lifting his glass, addressed a short speech to Kozlovsky. When he had finished, Kozlovsky -- who always had a trick of using the word "how" superfluously -- rose and stammeringly began:
"In compliance with the august will of his Majesty I am leaving you -- parting from you, gentlemen," said he. "But consider me as always remaining among you. The truth oM
f the proverb, how 'One man in the field is no warrior', is well known to you, gentlemen. ... Therefore, how every reward I have received...how all the benefits showered on me by the great generosity of our sovereign the Emperor...how all my position -- how my good name...how everything decidedly ... how ... " (here his voice trembled) "... how I am indebted to you for it, to you alone, my friends!" The wrinkled face puckered up still more, he gave a sob and tears came into his eyes. "How from my heart I offer you M
my sincerest, heartfelt gratitude!"
Kozlovsky could not go on but turned round and began to embrace the officers. The princess hid her face in her handkerchief. The prince blinked, with his mouth drawn awry. Many of the officers' eyes grew moist and Butler, who had hardly known Kozlovsky, could also not restrain his tears. He liked all this very much.
Then followed other toasts. Healths were drunk to Baryatinsky, Vorontsov, the officers, and the soldiers, and the visitors left the table intoxicated with wine M
and with the military elation to which they were always so prone. The weather was wonderful, sunny and calm, and the air fresh and bracing. Bonfires crackled and songs resounded on all sides. It might have been thought that everybody was celebrating some joyful event. Butler went to Poltoratsky's in the happiest, most emotional mood. Several officers had gathered there and a card table was set. An adjutant started a bank with a hundred rubles. Two or three times Butler left the tent with his hand gripping the purseM
 in his trousers-pocket, but at last he could resist the temptation no longer, and despite the promise he had given to his brother and to himself not to play, he began to do so. Before an hour was past, very red, perspiring, and soiled with chalk, he was sitting with both elbows on the table and writing on it -- under cards bent for "corners" and "transports -- the figures of his stakes. He had already lost so much that he was afraid to count up what was scored against him. But he knew without counting that all theM
 pay he could draw in advance, added to the value of his horse, would not suffice to pay what the adjutant, a stranger to him, had written down against him. He would still have gone on playing, but the adjutant sternly laid down the cards he held in his large clean hands and added up the chalked figures of the score of Butler's losses. Butler, in confusion began to make excuses for being unable to pay the whole of his debt at once, and said he would send it from home. When he said this he noticed that everybody pitM
ied him and that they all -- even Poltoratsky -- avoided meeting his eye. That was his last evening there. He reflected that he need only have refrained from playing and gone to the Vorontsovs who had invited him, and all would have been well, but now it was not only not well -- it was terrible.
Having taken leave of his comrades and acquaintances he rode home and went to bed, and slept for eighteen hours as people usually sleep after losing heavily. From the fact that he asked her to lend him fifty kopecks to tM
ip the Cossack who had escorted him, and from his sorrowful looks and short answers, Marya Dmitrievna guessed that he had lost at cards and she reproached the major for having given him leave of absence.
When he woke up at noon next day and remembered the situation he was in he longed again to plunge into the oblivion from which he had just emerged, but it was impossible. Steps had to be taken to repay the four hundred and seventy rubles he owed to the stranger. The first step he took was to write to his brotherM
, confessing his sin and imploring him for the last time, to lend him five hundred rubles on the security of the mill they still owned in common. Then he wrote to a stingy relative asking her to lend him five hundred rubles at whatever rate of interest she liked. Finally he went to the major, knowing that he -- or rather Marya Dmitrievna -- had some money, and asked him to lend him five hundred rubles.
"I'd let you have them at once," said the major, "but Masha won't! These women are so close-fisted -- who the dM
evil can understand them? ... And yet you must get out of it somehow, devil take him! ... Hasn't that brute the canteen-keeper got something?"
But it was no use trying to borrow from the canteen-keeper, so Butler's salvation could only come from his brother or his stingy relative.
Not having attained his aim in Chechnya, Hadji Murat returned to Tiflis and went every day to Vorontsov's, and whenever he could obtain audience he implored the Viceroy to gather together the mountaineer prisoners anM
d exchange them for his family. He said that unless that were done his hands were tied and he could not serve the Russians and destroy Shamil as he desired to do. Vorontsov vaguely promised to do what he could, but put it off, saying that he would decide when General Argutinski reached Tiflis and he could talk the matter over with him.
Then Hadji Murat asked Vorontsov to allow him to go to live for a while in Nukha, a small town in Transcaucasia where he thought he could better carry on negotiations about his faM
mily with Shamil and with the people who were attached to himself. Moreover Nukha, being a Mohammedan town, had a mosque where he could more conveniently perform the rites of prayer demanded by the Mohammedan law. Vorontsov wrote to Petersburg about it but meanwhile gave Hadji Murat permission to go to Nukha.
For Vorontsov and the authorities in Petersburg, as well as for most Russians acquainted with Hadji Murat's history, the whole episode presented itself as a lucky turn in the Caucasian war, or simply as an M
interesting event. For Hadji Murat it was a terrible crisis in his life -- especially laterally. He had escaped from the mountains partly to save himself and partly out of hatred of Shamil, and difficult as this flight had been he had attained his object, and for a time was glad of his success and really devised a plan to attack Shamil, but the rescue of his family -- which he had thought would be easy to arrange -- had proved more difficult than he expected.
Shamil had seized the family and kept them prisoners,M
 threatening to hand the women over to the different aouls and to blind or kill the son. Now Hadji Murat had gone to Nukha intending to try by the aid of his adherents in Daghestan to rescue his family from Shamil by force or by cunning. The last spy who had come to see him in Nukha informed him that the Avars, who were devoted to him, were preparing to capture his family and themselves bring them over to the Russians, but that there were not enough of them and they could not risk making the attempt in Vedeno, wherM
e the family was at present imprisoned, but could do so only if the family were moved from Vedeno to some other place -- in which case they promised to rescue them on the way.
Hadji Murat sent word to his friends that he would give three thousand rubles for the liberation of his family.
At Nukha a small house of five rooms was assigned to Hadji Murat near the mosque and the Khan's palace. The officers in charge of him, his interpreter, and his henchmen, stayed in the same house. Hadji Murat's life was spent iM
n the expectation and reception of messengers from the mountains and in rides he was allowed to take in the neighborhood.
On 24th April, returning from one of these rides, Hadji Murat learned that during his absence an official sent by Vorontsov had arrived from Tiflis. In spite of his longing to know what message the official had brought him he went to his bedroom and repeated his noonday prayer before going into the room where the officer in charge and the official were waiting. This room served him both as drM
awing room and reception room. The official who had come from Tiflis, Councilor Kirillov, informed Hadji Murat of Vorontsov's wish that he should come to Tiflis on the 12th to meet General Argutinski.
"Yakshi!" said Hadji Murat angrily. The councilor did not please him. "Have you brought money?"
"I have," answered Kirillov.
"For two weeks now," said Hadji Murat, holding up first both hands and then four fingers. "Give here!"
"We'll give it you at once," said the official, getting his purse out of his trM
aveling bag. "What does he want with the money?" he sent on in Russian, thinking that Hadji Murat would not understand. But Hadji Murat had understood, and glanced angrily at him. While getting out the money the councilor, wishing to begin a conversation with Hadji Murat in order to have something to tell Prince Vorontsov on his return, asked through the interpreter whether he was not feeling dull there. Hadji Murat glanced contemptuously out of the corner of his eye at the fat, unarmed little man dressed as a civiM
lian, and did not reply. The interpreter repeated the question.
"Tell him that I cannot talk with him! Let him give me the money!" and having said this, Hadji Murat sat down at the table ready to count it.
Hadji Murat had an allowance of five gold pieced a day, and when Kirillov had got out the money and arranged it in seven piles of ten gold pieces each and pushed them towards Hadji Murat, the latter poured the gold into the sleeve of his Circassian coat, rose, quite unexpectedly smacked Councilor Kirillov oM
n his bald pate, and turned to go.
The councilor jumped up and ordered the interpreter to tell Hadji Murat that he must not dare to behave like that to him who held a rank equal to that of colonel! The officer in charge confirmed this, but Hadji Murat only nodded to signify that he knew, and left the room.
"What is one to do with him?" said the officer in charge. "He'll stick his dagger into you, that's all! One cannot talk with those devils! I see that he is getting exasperated."
As soon as it began to grM
ow dusk two spies with hoods covering their faces up to their eyes, came to him from the hills. The officer in charge led them to Hadji Murat's room. One of them was a fleshy, swarthy Tavlinian, the other a thin old man. The news they brought was not cheering. Hadji Murat's friends who had undertaken to rescue his family now definitely refused to do so, being afraid of Shamil, who threatened to punish with most terrible tortures anyone who helped Hadji Murat. Having heard the messengers he sat with his elbows on hiM
s crossed legs, and bowing his turbaned head remained silent a long time.
He was thinking and thinking resolutely. He knew that he was now considering the matter for the last time and that it was necessary to come to a decision. At last he raised his head, gave each of the messengers a gold piece, and said: "Go!"
"What answer will there be?"
"The answer will be as God pleases. ... Go!"
The messengers rose and went away, and Hadji Murat continued to sit on the carpet leaning his elbows on his knees. He sM
at thus a long time and pondered.
"What am I to do? To take Shamil at his word and return to him?" he thought. "He is a fox and will deceive me. Even if he did not deceive me it would still be impossible to submit to that red liar. It is impossible ... because now that I have been with the Russians he will not trust me," thought Hadji Murat; and he remembered a Tavlinian fable about a falcon who had been caught and lived among men and afterwards returned to his own kind in the hills. He returned, wearing jesses M
with bells, and the other falcons would not receive him. "Fly back to where they hung those silver bells on thee!" said they. "We have no bells and no jesses." The falcon did not want to leave his home and remained, but the other falcons did not wish to let him stay there and pecked him to death.
"And they would peck me to death in the same way," thought Hadji Murat. "Shall I remain here and conquer Caucasia for the Russian Czar and earn renown, titles, riches?"
"That could be done," thought he, recalling hisM
 interviews with Vorontsov and the flattering things the prince had said; "but I must decide at once, or Shamil will destroy my family."
That night he remained awake thinking.
By midnight his decision had been formed. He had decided that he must fly to the mountains, and break into Vedeno with the Avars still devoted to him, and either die or rescue his family. Whether after rescuing them he would return to the Russians or escape to Khunzakh and fight Shamil, he had not made up his mind. All hM
e knew was that first of all he must escape from the Russians into the mountains, and he at once began to carry out his plan.
He drew his black wadded beshmet from under his pillow and went into his henchmen's room. They lived on the other side of the hall. As soon as he entered the hall, the outer door of which stood open, he was at once enveloped by the dewy freshness of the moonlit night and his ears were filled by the whistling and trilling of several nightingales in the garden by the house.
d the hall he opened the door of his henchmen's room. There was no light there, but the moon in its first quarter shone in at the window. A table and two chairs were standing on one side of the room, and four of his henchmen were lying on carpets or on burkas on the floor. Khanefi slept outside with the horses. Gamzalo heard the door creak, rose, turned round, and saw him. On recognizing him he lay down again, but Eldar, who lay beside him, jumped up and began putting on his beshmet, expecting his master's orders. M
Khan Mahoma and Bata slept on. Hadji Murat put down the beshmet he had brought on the table, which it hit with a dull sound, caused by the bold sewn up in it.
"Sew these in too," said Hadji Murat, handing Eldar the gold pieces he had received that day. Eldar took them and at once went into the moonlight, drew a small knife from under his dagger and started unstitching the lining of the beshmet. Gamzalo raised himself and sat up with his legs crossed.
"And you, Gamzalo, tell the men to examine the rifles and pM
istols and get the ammunition ready. Tomorrow we shall go far," said Hadji Murat.
"We have bullets and powder, everything shall be ready," replied Gamzalo, and roared out something incomprehensible. He understood why Hadji Murat had ordered the rifles to be loaded. From the first he had desired only one thing -- to slay and stab as many Russians as possible and to escape to the hills -- and this desire had increased day by day. Now at last he saw that Hadji Murat also wanted this and he was satisfied.
dji Murat went away Gamzalo roused his comrades, and all four spent the rest of the night examining their rifles, pistols, flints, and accouterments; replacing what was damaged, sprinkling fresh powder onto the pans, and stoppering with bullets wrapped in oiled rags, packets filled with the right amount of powder for each charge, sharpening their swords and daggers and greasing the blades with tallow.
Before daybreak Hadji Murat again came out into the hall to get water for his ablutions. The songs of the nightiM
ngales that had burst into ecstasy at dawn were now even louder and more incessant, while from his henchmen's room, where the daggers were being sharpened, came the regular screech and rasp of iron against stone.
Hadji Murat got himself some water from a tub, and was already at his own door when above the sound of the grinding he heard from his murids' room the high tones of Khanefi's voice singing a familiar song. He stopped to listen. The song told of how a dzhigit, Hamzad, with his brave followers captured a M
herd of white horses from the Russians, and how a Russian prince followed him beyond the Terek and surrounded him with an army as large as a forest; and then the song went on to tell how Hamzad killed the horses, entrenched his men behind this gory bulwark, and fought the Russians as long as they had bullets in their rifles, daggers in their belts, and blood in their veins. But before he died Hamzad saw some birds flying in the sky and cried to them:
Fly on, ye winged ones, fly to our homes!
rs, tell ye our sisters,
Tell the white maidens, that fighting we died
For Ghazavat! Tell them our bodies
Never will lie and rest in a tomb!
Wolves will devour and tear them to pieces,
Ravens and vultures will pluck out our eyes.
With that the song ended, and at the last words, sung to a mournful air, the merry Bata's vigorous voice joined in with a loud shout of "Lya-il-lyakha-il Allakh!" finishing with shrill shriek. Then all was quiet again, except for the tchuk, tchuk, tchuk, tchuk and whistliM
ng of the nightingales from the garden and from behind the door the even grinding, and now and then the whiz, of iron sliding quickly along the whetstone.
Hadji Murat was so full of thought that he did not notice how he tilted his jug till the water began to pour out. He shook his head at himself and reentered his room. After performing his morning ablutions he examined his weapons and sat down on his bed. There was nothing more for him to do. To be allowed to ride out he would have to get permission from the ofM
ficer in charge, but it was not yet daylight and the officer was still asleep.
Khanefi's song reminded him of the song his mother had composed just after he was born -- the song addressed to his father that Hadji Murat had repeated to Loris-Melikov.
And he seemed to see his mother before him -- not wrinkled and gray-haired, with gaps between her teeth, as he had lately left her, but young and handsome, and strong enough to carry him in a basket on her back across the mountains to her father's when he was a heM
avy five-year-old boy.
And the recollection of himself as a little child reminded him of his beloved son, Yusuf, whose head he himself had shaved for the first time; and now this Yusuf was a handsome young dzhigit. He pictured him as he was when last he saw him on the day he left Tselmess. Yusuf had brought him his horse and asked to be allowed to accompany him. He was ready dressed and armed, and led his own horse by the bridle, and his rosy handsome young face and the whole of his tall slender figure (he was tM
aller than his father) breathed of daring, youth, and the joy of life. The breadth of his shoulders, though he was so young, the very side youthful hips, the long slender waist, the strength of his long arms, and the power, flexibility, and agility of all his movements had always rejoiced Hadji Murat, who admired his son.
"Thou hadst better stay. Thou wilt e alone at home now. Take care of thy mother and thy grandmother," said Hadji Murat. And he remembered the spirited and proud look and the flush of pleasure wM
ith which Yusuf had replied that as long as he lived no one should injure his mother or grandmother. All the same, Yusuf had mounted and accompanied his father as far as the stream. There he turned back, and since then Hadji Murat had not seen his wife, his mother, or his son. And it was this son whose eyes Shamil threatened to put out! Of what would be done to his wife Hadji Murat did not wish to think.
These thoughts so excited him that he could not sit still any longer. He jumped up and went limping quickly tM
o the door, opened it, and called Eldar. The sun had not yet risen, but it was already quite light. The nightingales were still singing.
"Go and tell the officer that I want to go out riding, and saddle the horses," said he.
Butler's only consolation all this time was the poetry of warfare, to which he gave himself up not only during his hours of service but also in private life. Dressed in his Circassian costume, he rode and swaggered about, and twice went into ambush with Bogdanovich, thoughM
 neither time did they discover or kill anyone. This closeness to and friendship with Bogdanovich, famed for his courage, seemed pleasant and warlike to Butler. He had paid his debt, having borrowed the money of a Jew at an enormous rate of interest -- that is to say, he had postponed his difficulties but had not solved them. He tried not to think of his position, and to find oblivion not only in the poetry of warfare but also in wine. He drank more and more every day, and day by day grew morally weaker. He was nowM
 no longer the chaste Joseph he had been towards marya Dmitrievna, but on the contrary began courting her grossly, meeting to his surprise with a strong and decided repulse which put him to shame.
At the end of April there arrived at the fort a detachment with which Baryatinsky intended to effect an advance right through Chechnya, which had till then been considered impassable. In that detachment were two companies of the Kabarda regiment, and according to Caucasian custom these were treated as guests by the KurM
in companies. The soldiers were lodged in the barracks, and were treated not only to supper, consisting of buckwheat porridge and beef, but also to vodka. The officers shared the quarters of the Kurin officers, and as usual those in residence gave the new-comers a dinner at which the regimental singers performed and which ended up with a drinking bout. Major Petrov, very drunk and no longer red but ash pale, sat astride a chair and, drawing his sword, hacked at imaginary foes, alternately swearing and laughing, nowM
 embracing someone and now dancing to the tune of his favorite song.
Shamil, he began to riot
In the days gone by;
In the years gone by!
Butler was there too. He tried to see the poetry of warfare in this also, but in the depth of his soul he was sorry for the major. To stop him, however, was quite impossible; and Butler, feeling that the fumes were mounting to his own head, quietly left the room and went home.
The moon lit up the white houses and the stones on the road. It waM
s so light that every pebble, every straw, every little heap of dust was visible. As he approached the house he met Marya Dmitrievna with a shawl over her head and neck. After the rebuff she had given him Butler had avoided her, feeling rather ashamed, but now in the moonlight and after the wine he had drunk he was pleased to meet her and wished to make up to her again.
"Where are you off to?" he asked.
"Why, to see after my old man," she answered pleasantly. Her rejection of Butler's advances was quite sinceM
re and decided, but she did not like his avoiding her as he had done lately.
"Why bother about him? He'll soon come back."
"If he doesn't they'll bring him."
"Just so. ... That's not right, you know! ... But you think I'd better not go?"
"Yes, I do. We'd better go home."
Marya Dmitrievna turned back and walked beside him. The moon shone so brightly that a halo seemed to move along the road round the shadows of their heads. Butler was looking at this halo and making up his mind to teM
ll her that he liked her as much as ever, but he did not know how to begin. She waited for him to speak, and they walked on in silence almost to the house, when some horsemen appeared from round the corner. These were an officer with an escort.
"Who's that coming now?" said marya Dmitrievna, stepping aside. The moon was behind the rider so that she did not recognize him until he had almost come up to them. It was Peter Nikolaevich Kamenev, an officer who had formerly served with the major and whom Marya DmitrievM
"Is it you, Peter Nikolaevich?" said she, addressing him.
"It's me," said Kamenev. "ah, Butler, how d'you do? ... Not asleep yet? Having a walk with Marya Dmitrievna! You'd better look out or the major will give it you. ... Where is he?"
"why, there. ... Listen!" replied Marya Dmitrievna pointing in the direction whence came the sounds of a tulumbas and songs. "They're on the spree."
"Why? Are your people having a spree on their own?"
"No; some officers have come from Hasav-Yurt, aM
nd they are being entertained."
"Ah, that's good! I shall be in time. ... I just want the major for a moment."
"On business?" asked Butler.
"Yes, just a little business matter."
"It all depends. ... Good for us but bad for some people," and Kamenev laughed.
By this time they had reached the major's house.
"Chikhirev," shouted Kamenev to one of his Cossacks, "come here!"
A Don Cossack rode up from among the others. He was dressed in the ordinary Don Cossack uniform with high boM
ots and a mantle, and carried saddle-bags behind.
"Well, take the thing out," said Kamenev, dismounting.
The Cossack also dismounted, and took a sack out of his saddle bag. Kamenev took the sack from him and inserted his hand.
"Well, shall I show you a novelty? You won't be frightened, Marya Dmitrievna?"
"Why should I be frightened?" she replied.
"Here it is!" said Kamenev taking out a man's head and holding it up in the light of the moon. "Do you recognize it?"
It was a shaven head with salient bM
rows, black short-cut beard and mustaches, one eye open and the other half-closed. The shaven skull was cleft, but not right through, and there was congealed blood in the nose. The neck was wrapped in a blood- stained towel. Notwithstanding the many wounds on the head, the blue lips still bore a kindly childlike expression.
Marya Dmitrievna looked at it, and without a word turned away and went quickly into the house.
butler could not tear his eyes from the terrible head. It was the head of that very Hadji MurM
at with whom he had so recently spent his evenings in such friendly intercourse.
"What does this mean? Who has killed him?" he asked.
"He wanted to give us the slip, but was caught," said Kamenev, and he gave the head back to the Cossack and went into the house with butler.
"He died like a hero," he added.
"But however did it all happen?"
"Just wait a bit. When the major comes I'll tell you all about it. That's what I am sent for. I take it round to all the forts and aouls and show it."
was sent for, and came back accompanied by two other officers as drunk as himself, and began embracing Kamenev.
"And I have brought you Hadji Murat's head," said Kamenev.
"Yes; wanted to escape."
"I always said he would bamboozle them! ... and where is it? The head, I mean. ... Let's see it."
The Cossack was called, and brought in the bag with the head. It was taken out and the major looked long at it with drunken eyes.
"All the same, he was a fine fellow," said he. "Let me kiss M
"Yes, it's true. It was a valiant head," said one of the officers.
When they had all looked at it, it was returned to the Cossack who put it in his bag, trying to let it bump against the floor as gently as possible.
"I say, Kamenev, what speech do you make when you show the head?" asked an officer.
"No! ... Let me kiss him. He gave me a sword!" shouted the major.
Butler went out into the porch.
Marya Dmitrievna was sitting on the second step. She looked round at Butler and at once turned angM
"What's the matter, marya Dmitrievna?" asked he.
"You're all cut-throats! ... I hate it! You're cut-throats, really," and she got up.
"It might happen to anyone," remarked Butler, not knowing what to say. "That's war."
"War? War, indeed! ... Cut-throats and nothing else. A dead body should be given back to the earth, and they're grinning at it there! ... Cut-throats, really," she repeated, as she descended the steps and entered the house by the back door.
Butler returned to the room M
and asked Kamenev to tell them in detail how the thing had happened.
And Kamenev told them
This is what had happened.
Hadji Murat was allowed to go out riding in the neighborhood of the town, but never without a convoy of Cossacks. There was only half a troop of them altogether in Nukha, ten of whom were employed by the officers, so that if ten were sent out with Hadji Murat (according to the orders received) the same men would have had to go every other day. Therefore after ten had been seM
nt out the first day, it was decided to send only five in future and Hadji Murat was asked not take all his henchmen with him. But on April the 25th he rode out with all five. When he mounted, the commander, noticing that all five henchmen were going with him, told him that he was forbidden to take them all, but Hadji Murat pretended not to hear, touched his horse, and the commander did not insist.
With the Cossacks rode a noncommissioned officer, Nazarov, who had received the Cross of St. George for bravery. HeM
 was a young, healthy, brown-haired lad, as fresh as a rose. He was the eldest of a poor family belonging to the sect of Old Believers, had grown up without a father, and had maintained his old mother, three sisters, and two brothers.
"Mind, Nazarov, keep close to him!" shouted the commander.
"All right, your honor!" answered Nazarov, and rising in his stirrups and adjusting the rifle that hung at his back he started his fine large roan gelding at a trot. Four Cossacks followed him: Ferapontov, tall and thin,M
 a regular thief and plunderer (it was he who had sold gunpowder to Gamzalo); Ignatov, a sturdy peasant who boasted of his strength, though he was no longer young and had nearly completed his service; Mishkin, a weakly lad at whom everybody laughed; and the young fair-haired Petrakov, his mother's only son, always amiable and jolly.
The morning had been misty, but it cleared up later on and the opening foliage, the young virgin grass, the sprouting corn, and the ripples of the rapid river just visible to the lefM
t of the road, all glittered in the sunshine.
Hadji Murat rode slowly along followed by the Cossacks and by his henchmen. They rode out along the road beyond the fort at a walk. They met women carrying baskets on their heads, soldiers driving carts, and creaking wagons drawn by buffaloes. When he had gone about a mile and a half Hadji Murat touched up his white Kabarda horse, which started at an amble that obliged the henchmen and Cossacks to ride at a quick trot to keep up with him.
"Ah, he's got a fine horsM
e under him," said Ferapontov. "If only he were still an enemy I'd soon bring him down."
"Yes, mate. Three hundred rubles were offered for that horse in Tiflis."
"But I can get ahead of him on mine," said Nazarov.
"You get ahead? A likely thing!"
Hadji kept increasing his pace.
"Hey, kunak, you mustn't do that. Steady!" cried Nazarov, starting to overtake Hadji Murat.
Hadji Murat looked round, said nothing, and continued to ride at the same pace.
"Mind, they're up to something, the devils!" saiM
d Ignatov. "See how they are tearing along."
So they rode for the best part of a mile in the direction of the mountains.
"I tell you it won't do!" shouted Nazarov.
Hadji Murat did not answer or look round, but only increased his pace to a gallop.
"Humbug! You won't get away!" shouted Nazarov, stung to the quick. He gave his big roan gelding a cut with his whip and, rising in his stirrups and bending forward, flew full speed in pursuit of Hadji Murat.
The sky was so bright, the air so clear, and life M
played so joyously in Nazarov's soul as, becoming one with his fine strong horse, he flew along the smooth road behind Hadji Murat, that the possibility of any thing sad or dreadful happening never occurred to him. He rejoiced that with every step he was gaining on Hadji Murat.
Hadji Murat judged by the approaching tramp of the big horse behind him that he would soon be overtaken, and seizing his pistol with his right hand, with his left he began slightly to rein in his Kabarda horse which was excited by hearingM
 the tramp of hoofs behind it.
"You mustn't, I tell you!" shouted Nazarov, almost level with Hadji Murat and stretching out his hand to seize the latter's bridle. But before he reached it a shot was fired. "What are you doing?" he screamed, clutching at his breast. "At them, lads!" and he reeled and fell forward on his saddle bow.
but the mountaineers were beforehand in taking to their weapons, and fired their pistols at the Cossacks and hewed at them with their swords.
Nazarov hung on the neck of his horsM
e, which careered round his comrades. the horse under Ignatov ell, crushing his leg, and two of the mountaineers, without dismounting, drew their swords and hacked at his head and arms. Petrakov was about to rush to his comrade's rescue when two shots -- one in his back and the other in his side -- stung him, and he fell from his horse like a sack.
Mishkin turned round and galloped off towards the fortress. Khanefi and Bata rushed after him, but he was already too far away and they could not catch him. When theyM
 saw that they could not overtake him they returned to the others.
Petrakov lay on his back, his stomach ripped open, his young face turned to the sky, and while dying he gasped for breath like a fish.
Gamzalo having finished off Ignatov with his sword, gave a cut to Nazarov too and threw him from his horse. Bata took their cartridge-pouches from the slain. Khanefi wished to take Nazarov's horse, but Hadji Murat called out to him to leave it, and dashed forward along the road. His murids galloped after him, dM
riving away Nazarov's horse that tried to follow them. they were already among rice-fields more than six miles from Nukha when a shot was fired from the tower of that place to give the alarm.
"O good Lord! O God! my God! What have they done?" cried the commander of the fort seizing his head with his hands when he heard of Hadji Murat's escape. "They've done for me! They've let him escape, the villains!" cried he, listening to Mishkin's account.
An alarm was raised everywhere and not only the CossacksM
 of the place were sent after the fugitives but also all the militia that could be mustered from the pro-Russian aouls. A thousand rubles reward was offered for the capture of Hadji Murat alive or dead, and two hours after he and his followers had escaped from the Cossacks more than two hundred mounted men were following the officer in charge at a gallop to find and capture the runaways.
After riding some miles along the high road Hadji Murat checked his panting horse, which, wet with sweat, had turned from whitM
To the right of the road could be seen the saklyas and minarets of the aoul Benerdzhik, on the left lay some fields, and beyond them the river. Although the way to the mountains lay to the right, Hadji Murat turned to the left, in the opposite direction, assuming that his pursuers would be sure to go to the right, while he, abandoning the road, would cross the Alazan and come out onto the high road on the other side, where no one would expect him -- ride along it to the forest, and then after recrossiM
ng the river make his way to the mountains.
Having come to this conclusion he turned to the left; but it proved impossible to reach the river. The rice-field which had to be crossed had just been flooded, as is always done in spring, and had become a bog in which the horses's legs sank above their pasterns. Hadji Murat and his henchmen rode now to the left, now to the right, hoping to find drier ground; but the field they were in had been equally flooded all over and was now saturated with water. The horses drewM
 their feet out of the sticky mud into which they sank, with a pop like that of a cork drawn from a bottle, and stopped, panting, after every few steps. They struggled in this way so long that it began to grow dusk and they had still not reached the river. To their left lay a patch of higher ground overgrown with shrubs and Hadji Murat decided to ride in among these clumps and remain there till night to rest their exhausted horses and let them graze. The men themselves at some bread and cheese they had brought withM
 them. At last night came on and the moon that had been shining at first, hid behind the hill and it became dark. There were a great many nightingales in that neighborhood and there were two of them in these shrubs. As long as Hadji Murat and his men were making a noise among the bushes the nightingales had been silent, but when they became still the birds again began to call to one another and to sing.
Hadji Murat, awake to all the sounds of night, listened to them involuntarily, and their trills reminded him oM
f the song about Hamzad which he had heard the night before when he went to get water. He might now at any moment find himself in the position in which Hamzad had been. He fancied that it would be so, and suddenly his soul became serious. He spread out his burka and performed his ablutions, and scarcely had he finished before a sound was heard approaching their shelter. It was the sound of many horses' feet splashing through the bog.
The keen-sighted Bata ran out to one edge of the clump, and peering through theM
 darkness saw black shadows, which were men on foot and on horseback. Khanefi discerned a similar crowd on the other side. It was Karganov, the military commander of the district, with his militia.
"Well, then, we shall fight like Hamzad," thought Hadji Murat.
When the alarm was given, Karganov with a troop of militiamen and Cossacks had rushed off in pursuit of Hadji Murat, but had been unable to find any trace of him. He had already lost hope and was returning home when, towards evening, he met an old man aM
nd asked him if he had seen any horsemen about. The old man replied that he had. He had seen six horsemen floundering in the rice-field, and then had seen them enter the clump where he himself was getting wood. Karganov turned back, taking the old man with him, and seeing the hobbled horses he made sure that Hadji Murat was there. In the night he surrounded the clump and waited till morning to take Hadji Murat alive or dead.
Having understood that he was surrounded, and having discovered an old ditch among the sM
hrubs, Hadji Murat decided to entrench himself in it and to resist as long as strength and ammunition lasted. He told his comrades this, and ordered them to throw up a bank in front of the ditch, and his henchmen at once se to work to cut down branches, dig up the earth with their daggers, and make an entrenchment. Hadji Murat himself worked with them.
As soon as it began to grow light the commander of the militia troop rode up to a clump and shouted:
"Hey! Hadji Murat, surrender! We are many and you are few!M
In reply came the report of a rifle, a cloudlet of smoke rose from the ditch and a bullet hit the militiaman's horse, which staggered under him and began to fall. The rifles of the militiamen who stood at the outskirts of the clump of shrubs began cracking in their turn, and their bullets whistled and hummed, cutting off leaves and twigs and striking the embankment, but not the men entrenched behind it. Only Gamzalo's horse, that had strayed from the others, was hit in the head by a bullet. It did not fall, buM
t breaking its hobbles and rushing among the bushes it ran to the other horses, pressing close to them and watering the young grass with its blood. Hadji Murat and his men fired only when any of the militiamen came forward, and rarely missed their aim. Three militiamen were wounded, and the others, far from making up their minds to rush the entrenchment, retreated farther and farther back, only firing from a distance and at random.
So it continued for more than an hour. The sun had risen to about half the heightM
 of the trees, and Hadji Murat was already thinking of leaping on his horse and trying to make his way to the river, when the shouts were heard of many men who had just arrived. These were Hadji Aga of Mekhtuli with his followers. There were about two hundred of them. Hadji Aga had once been Hadji Murat's kunak and had lived with him in the mountains, but he had afterwards gone over to the Russians. With him was Akhmet Khan, the son of Hadji Murat's old enemy.
Like Karganov, Hadji Aga began by calling to Hadji MM
urat to surrender, and Hadji Murat answered as before with a shot.
"Swords out, my men!" cried Hadji Aga, drawing his own; and a hundred voices were raised by men who rushed shrieking in among the shrubs.
The militiamen ran in among the shrubs, but from behind the entrenchment came the crack of one shot after another. Some three men fell, and the attackers stopped at the outskirts to the clump and also began firing. As they fired they gradually approached the entrenchment, running across from behind one shrubM
 to another. Some succeeded in getting across, others fell under the bullets of Hadji Murat or of his men. Hadji Murat fired without missing; Gamzalo too rarely wasted a shot, and shrieked with joy every time he saw that his bullet had hit its aim. Khan Mahoma sat at the edge of the ditch singing "Il lyakha il Allakh!" and fired leisurely, but often missed. Eldar's whole body trembled with impatience to rush dagger in hand at the enemy, and he fired often and at random, constantly looking round at Hadji Murat and sM
tretching out beyond the entrenchment. The shaggy Khanefi, with his sleeves rolled up, did the duty of a servant even here. He loaded the guns which Hadji Murat and Khan Mahoma passed to him, carefully driving home with a ramrod the bullets wrapped in greasy rags, and pouring dry powder out of the powder flask onto the pans. Bata did not remain in the ditch as the others did, but kept running to the horses, driving them away to a safer place and shrieking incessantly, fired without using a prop for his gun. He was M
the first to be wounded. A bullet entered his neck and he sat down spitting blood and swearing. Then Hadji Murat was wounded, the bullet piercing his shoulder. He tore some cotton wool from the lining of his beshmet, plugged the wound with it, and went on firing.
"Let us fly at them with our swords!" said Eldar for the third time, and he looked out from behind the bank of earth ready to rush at the enemy; but at that instant a bullet struck him and he reeled and fell backwards onto Hadji Murat's leg. Hadji MuratM
 glanced at him. His eyes, beautiful like those of a ram, gazed intently and seriously at Hadji Murat. His mouth, the upper lip pouting like a child's, twitched without opening. Hadji Murat drew his leg away from under him and continued firing.
Khanefi bent over the dead Eldar and began taking the unused ammunition out of the cartridge cases of his coat.
Khan Mahoma meanwhile continued to sing, loading leisurely and firing. The enemy ran from shrub to shrub, hallooing and shrieking and drawing ever nearer andM
Another bullet hit Hadji Murat in the left side. He lay down in the ditch and again pulled some cotton wool out of his beshmet and plugged the wound. This wound in the side was fatal and he felt that he was dying. Memories and pictures succeeded one another with extraordinary rapidity in his imagination. now he saw the powerful Abu Nutsal Khan, dagger in hand and holding up his severed cheek as he rushed at his foe; then he saw the weak, bloodless old Vorontsov with his cunning white face, and heard hisM
 soft voice; then he saw his son Yusuf, his wife Sofiat, and then the pale, red-bearded face of his enemy Shamil with its half-closed eyes. All these images passed through his mind without evoking any feeling within him -- neither pity nor anger nor any kind of desire: everything seemed so insignificant in comparison with what was beginning, or had already begun, within him.
Yet his strong body continued the thing that he had commenced. Gathering together his last strength he rose from behind the bank, fired hisM
 pistol at a man who was just running towards him, and hit him. The man fell. Then Hadji Murat got quite out of the ditch, and limping heavily went dagger in hand straight at the foe.
Some shots cracked and he reeled and fell. Several militiamen with triumphant shrieks rushed towards the fallen body. But the body that seemed to be dead suddenly moved. First the uncovered, bleeding, shaven head rose; then the body with hands holding to the trunk of a tree. He seemed so terrible, that those who were running towardM
s him stopped short. But suddenly a shudder passed through him, he staggered away from the tree and fell on his face, stretched out at full length like a thistle that had been mown down, and he moved no more.
He did not move, but still he felt.
When Hadji Aga, who was the first to reach him, struck him on the head with a large dagger, it seemed to Hadji Murat that someone was striking him with a hammer and he could not understand who was doing it or why. That was his last consciousness of any connection with M
his body. He felt nothing more and his enemies kicked and hacked at what had no longer anything in common with him.
Hadji Aga placed his foot on the back of the corpse and with two blows cut off the head, and carefully -- not to soil his shoes with blood -- rolled it away with his foot. Crimson blood spurted from the arteries of the neck, and black blood flowed from the head, soaking the grass.
Karganov and Hadji Aga and Akhmet Khan and all the militiamen gathered together -- like sportsmen round a slaughtereM
d animal -- near the bodies of Hadji Murat and his men (Khanefi, Khan Mahoma, and Gamzalo they bound), and amid the powder-smoke which hung over the bushes they triumphed in their victory.
the nightingales, that had hushed their songs while the firing lasted, now started their trills once more: first one quite close, then others in the distance.
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"name" : "Ordinal Pepe Unlimited",
"description" : "6x unique Pepes for Pepe fans, 1x OG Pepe for the collection owner.",
"publisher" : "Pepe Unlimited",
"publisher_uri" : "https://twitter.com/PepeUnlimited",
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
by William Shakespeare
Athens. A room in the Palace of Theseus
The Same. A Room in a Cottage
Another part of the wood
Another part of the wood
Athens. A Room in Quince
Athens. An Apartment in the Palace of Theseus
THESEUS, Duke of Athens
A, Queen of the Amazons, bethrothed to Theseus
EGEUS, Father to Hermia
HERMIA, daughter to Egeus, in love with Lysander
HELENA, in love with Demetrius
LYSANDER, in love with Hermia
DEMETRIUS, in love with Hermia
PHILOSTRATE, Master of the Revels to Theseus
QUINCE, the Carpenter
FLUTE, the Bellows-mender
STARVELING, the Tailor
OBERON, King of the Fairies
TITANIA, Queen of the Fairies
PUCK, or ROBIN GOODFELLOW, a Fairy
PYRAMUS, THISBE, WALL, MOONSHINE, LION; Characters in the Interlude
performed by the Clowns
Other Fairies attending their King and Queen
Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta
SCENE: Athens, and a wood not far from it
SCENE I. Athens. A room in the Palace of Theseus
 Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate and Attendants.
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon; but oh, methinks, hoM
This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires,
Like to a step-dame or a dowager,
Long withering out a young man
Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
And then the moon, like to a silver bow
New bent in heaven, shall behold the night
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
ion is not for our pomp.
 [_Exit Philostrate._]
d thee with my sword,
And won thy love doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling.
 Enter Egeus, Hermia, Lysander and Demetrius.
Happy be Theseus, our renown
Thanks, good Egeus. What
s the news with thee?
Full of vexation come I, with complaint
Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord,
h my consent to marry her.
Stand forth, Lysander. And, my gracious Duke,
This man hath bewitch
d the bosom of my child.
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,
d love-tokens with my child.
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;
n the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats (messengers
Of strong prevailment in unharden
d her obedience (which is due to me)
To stubborn harshness. And, my gracious Duke,
Be it so she will not here before your grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius,
I beg the ancient privilege of Athens:
As she is mine I may dispose of her;
Which shall be either to this gentleman
Or to her death, according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.
What say you, Hermia? Be advis
To you your father should be as a god;
d your beauties, yea, and one
To whom you are but as a form in wax
By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
But in this kind, wanting your father
The other must be held the worthier.
I would my father look
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
at power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concern my modesty
In such a presence here to plead my thoughts:
But I beseech your Grace that I may know
The worst that may befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
Either to die the death, or to abjure
For ever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not to your father
You can endure the livery of a nun,
For aye to be in shady cloistM
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
d they that master so their blood
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage,
But earthlier happy is the rose distill
Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.
So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwish
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
ke time to pause; and by the next new moon
The sealing-day betwixt my love and me
For everlasting bond of fellowship,
Upon that day either prepare to die
For disobedience to your father
Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would,
For aye austerity and single life.
Relent, sweet Hermia; and, Lysander, yield
d title to my certain right.
s. Do you marry him.
rnful Lysander, true, he hath my love;
And what is mine my love shall render him;
And she is mine, and all my right of her
I do estate unto Demetrius.
I am, my lord, as well deriv
d; my love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank
If not with vantage, as Demetrius
And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
d of beauteous Hermia.
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
ll avouch it to his head,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
I must confess that I have heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
But, being over-full of self-affairs,
My mind did lose it.
But, Demetrius, come,
And come, Egeus; you shall go with me.
I have some private schooling for you both.
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
To fit your fancies to your father
Or else the law of Athens yields you up
(Which by no means we may extenuate)
To death, or to a vow of single life.
Come, my Hippolyta. What cheer, my love?
Demetrius and Egeus, go along;
I must employ you in some business
Against our nuptial, and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
With duty and desire we follow you.
 [_Exeunt all but Lysander and Hermia._]
How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Belike for want of rain, which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
Ay me! For aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth.
But either it was different in blood
O cross! Too high to be enthrall
d in respect of years
O spite! Too old to be engag
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends
ll! to choose love by another
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And, ere a man hath power to say,
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.
If then true lovers have ever cross
It stands as an edict in dM
Then let us teach our trial patience,
Because it is a customary cross,
As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,
Wishes and tears, poor fancy
A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia.
I have a widow aunt, a dowager
Of great revenue, and she hath no child.
From Athens is her house remote seven leagues,
And she respects me as her only son.
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee,
And to that place the sharp Athenian law
Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me theM
Steal forth thy father
s house tomorrow night;
And in the wood, a league without the town
(Where I did meet thee once with Helena
To do observance to a morn of May),
There will I stay for thee.
I swear to thee by Cupid
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicity of Venus
By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
And by that fire which burn
d the Carthage queen
When the false Trojan under sail was seen,
 that ever men have broke
(In number more than ever women spoke),
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee.
Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.
God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
Call you me fair? That fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars and your tongue
More tuneable than lark to shepherd
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appearM
Sickness is catching. O were favour so,
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go.
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
d give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius
I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
 yet he gives me love.
O that my prayers could such affection move!
The more I hate, the more he follows me.
The more I love, the more he hateth me.
His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
None but your beauty; would that fault were mine!
Take comfort: he no more shall see my face;
Lysander and myself will fly this place.
Before the time I did Lysander see,
d Athens as a paradise to me.
O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,
d a heaven into hell!
Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
Her silver visage in the watery glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass
 flights doth still conceal),
 gates have we devis
And in the wood where often you and I
Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
There my Lysander and myself shall meet,
 Athens turn away our eyes,
To seek new friends and stranger companies.
Farewell, sweet playfellow. Pray thou for us,
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!
Keep word, Lysander. We must starve our sight
 food, till morrow deep midnight.
As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!
er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thM
He will not know what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing
d Cupid painted blind.
s mind of any judgment taste.
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil
As waggish boys in game tM
So the boy Love is perjur
For, ere Demetrius look
d down oaths that he was only mine;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
d, and showers of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia
Then to the wood will he tomorrow night
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expense.
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither and back again.
SCENE II. The Same. A Room in a Cottage
 Enter Quince, Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout  and Starveling.
Is all our company here?
You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the
Here is the scroll of every man
s name, which is thought fit through
all Athens, to play in our interlude before the Duke and Duchess, on
his wedding-day at night.
First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the
names of the actorsM
; and so grow to a point.
Marry, our play is _The most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of
Pyramus and Thisbe_.
A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter
Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread
Answer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.
Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
a lover, or a tyrant?
A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.
That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. If I do it, let
the audience look to their eyes. I will move storms; I will condole in
some measure. To the rest
yet my chief humour is for a tyrant. I could
play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.
    The raging rocks
    And shivering shocks
    Shall break the locks
           Of prison gates,
    Shall shine from far,
           The foolish Fates.
This was lofty. Now name the rest of the players. This is Ercles
s vein; a lover is more condoling.
Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flute, you must take Thisbe on you.
What is Thisbe? A wandering knight?
It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a beard coming.
s all one. You shall play it in a maM
sk, and you may speak as small
And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too. I
monstrous little voice;
Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear!
thy Thisbe dear! and lady dear!
No, no, you must play Pyramus; and, Flute, you Thisbe.
Robin Starveling, the tailor.
Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe
Tom Snout, the tinker.
 father; myself, Thisbe
Snug, the joiner, you, the lion
s part. And, I hope here is a play
s part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I
You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will do any man
good to hear me. I will roar that I will make the Duke say
roar again, let him roar again.
If you should do it too terribly, you would fright the Duchess and the
ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all.
That would hang us every mother
I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their
wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us. But I will
aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking
dove; I will roar you an
twere any nightingale.
You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus M
is a sweet-faced man; a
proper man as one shall see in a summer
s day; a most lovely
gentleman-like man. Therefore you must needs play Pyramus.
Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play it in?
I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard, your
orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your
French-crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow.
Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play
are-faced. But, masters, here are your parts, and I am to entreat you,
request you, and desire you, to con them by tomorrow night; and meet me
in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will
we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogg
company, and our devices known. In the meantime I will draw a bill of
properties, such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not.
We will meet, and there we may rehearse most obscenely and
courageously. Take pains, be perfM
Enough. Hold, or cut bow-strings.
SCENE I. A wood near Athens
 Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck at another.
How now, spirit! Whither wander you?
    Over hill, over dale,
        Thorough bush, thorough brier,
    Over park, over pale,
        Thorough flood, thorough fire,
    I do wander everywhere,
    Swifter than the moon
    And I serve the Fairy Queen,
    The cowslips tall her pensioners be,
    In their gold coats spots you see;
    Those be rubies, fairy favours,
    In those freckles live their savours.
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip
Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I
Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.
The King doth keep his revels here tonight;
Take heed the Queen come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as heM
n from an Indian king;
She never had so sweet a changeling.
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild:
But she perforce withholds the lov
Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy.
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
But they do square; that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.
Either I mistake your shape and mM
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
d Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he
That frights the maidens of the villagery,
Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern,
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn,
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm,
Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck.
I am that merry wanderer ofM
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal;
And sometime lurk I in a gossip
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
 cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their M
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But room, fairy. Here comes Oberon.
And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
 Enter Oberon at one door, with his Train, and Titania at another, with
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence;
I have forsworn his bed and company.
Tarry, rash wanton; am not I thy lord?
Then I must be thy lady; but I knM
n away from fairyland,
And in the shape of Corin sat all day
Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
Come from the farthest steep of India,
But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
d mistress and your warrior love,
To Theseus must be wedded; and you come
To give their bed joy and prosperity?
How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
t thou lead him through the glimmering night
From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
And make him with fair Aegles break his faith,
With Ariadne and Antiopa?
These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
d fountain, or by rushy brook,
d margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck
Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land,
Hath every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents.
The ox hath therefore stretch
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain
The fold stands empty in the drown
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
 of tread, are undistinguishable.
The human mortals want their winter here.
No night is now with hymn or carol blest.
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound.
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose;
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, aM
Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which.
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.
Do you amend it, then. It lies in you.
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy
Set your heart at rest;
The fairyland buys not the child of me.
His mother was a vot
Full often hath she gossip
And sat with me on Neptune
d traders on the flood,
d to see the sails conceive,
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
Following (her womb then rich with my young squire),
Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
To fetch me trifles, and return again,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
d for her sake do I rear up her boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him.
How long within this wood intend you stay?
Perchance till after Theseus
If you will patiently dance in our round,
And see our moonlight revels, go with us;
If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
Give me that boy and I will go with thee.
Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away.
We shall chide downright if I longer stay.
 [_Exit Titania with her Train._]
Well, go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove
Till I torment thee for this injury.
My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb
Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
That the rude sea grew civil at her song
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid
That very time I saw, (but thou couldst not),
Flying between the cold moon and the earthM
d: a certain aim he took
At a fair vestal, thron
d his love-shaft smartly from his bow
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts.
But I might see young Cupid
d in the chaste beams of the watery moon;
And the imperial votress passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
d I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love
And maidens call it love-in-idM
Fetch me that flower, the herb I showed thee once:
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again
Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
ll put a girdle round about the earth
Having once this juice,
ll watch Titania when she is asleep,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing then she waking looks upon
 it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
On meddling monkey, or on busy ape)
She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
And ere I take this charm from off her sight
(As I can take it with another herb)
ll make her render up her page to me.
But who comes here? I am invisible;
And I will overhear their conference.
 Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.
I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
ll slay, the other slayeth me.
And here am I, and wode within this wood
Because I cannot meet with Hermia.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant,
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw,
And I shall have no power to follow you.
Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?
Or rather do I not in plainest truth
Tell you I do not, nor I cannot love you?
And even for that do I love you M
I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you.
Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
What worser place can I beg in your love,
(And yet a place of high respect with me)
d as you use your dog?
Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
For I am sick when I do look on thee.
And I am sick when I look not on you.
To leave the city and commit yourself
Into the hands of one that loves you not,
To trust the opportunity of night.
And the ill counsel of a desert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.
Your virtue is my privilege: for that.
It is not night when I do see your face,
Therefore I think I am not in the night;
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
For you, in my respect, are all the world.
Then how can it be said I am alone
When all the world is here to look on me?
ll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,
And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
Run when you will, the story shall be chang
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
The dove pursues the griffin, the mild hind
Makes speed to catch the tiger. Bootless speed,
When cowardice pursues and valour flies!
I will not stay thy questions. Let me go,
Or if thou follow me, do not believe
But I shall do thee mischief in tM
Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex.
We cannot fight for love as men may do.
d, and were not made to woo.
 [_Exit Demetrius._]
ll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.
Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove,
Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.
Hast thou the flower theM
re? Welcome, wanderer.
I pray thee give it me.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
d in these flowers with dances and delight;
And there the snake throws her enamell
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.
And with the juice of this I
And make her full ofM
Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
A sweet Athenian lady is in love
With a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes;
But do it when the next thing he espies
May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man
By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Effect it with some care, that he may prove
More fond on her than she upon her love:
And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.
SCENE II. Another part of the wood
Enter Titania with her Train.
Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then for the third part of a minute, hence;
Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds;
Some war with reremice for their leathern wings,
To make my small elves coats; and some keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep;
Then to your offices, and let me rest.
    You spotted snakes with double tongue,
       Thorny hedgehogs, be not seenM
    Newts and blind-worms do no wrong,
       Come not near our Fairy Queen:
    Philomel, with melody,
    Sing in our sweet lullaby:
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby.
    Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
    Come our lovely lady nigh;
    So good night, with lullaby.
    Weaving spiders, come not here;
       Hence, you long-legg
    Beetles black, approach not near;
       Worm nor snail do no offence.
    Philomel with melodyM
Hence away! Now all is well.
One aloof stand sentinel.
 [_Exeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps._]
What thou seest when thou dost wake,
 [_Squeezes the flower on  Titania
Do it for thy true love take;
Love and languish for his sake.
Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
In thy eye that shall appear
Wake when some vile thing is near.
 Enter Lysander and Hermia.
Fair love, you faint with wand
And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way.
ll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day.
Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed,
For I upon this bank will rest my head.
One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.
Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,
Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.
se, sweet, of my innocence!
Love takes the meaning in love
I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,
So that but one heart we can make of it:
Two bosoms interchain
So then two bosoms and a single troth.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny;
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
Lysander riddles very prettily.
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied!
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
Lie further off, in human modestyM
Such separation as may well be said
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend:
er alter till thy sweet life end!
Amen, amen, to that fair prayer say I;
And then end life when I end loyalty!
Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest!
With half that wish the wisher
Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
s force in stirring love.
Night and silence! Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
d the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul, she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe;
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.
So awake when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon.
trius and Helena, running.
Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.
Stay, on thy peril; I alone will go.
 [_Exit Demetrius._]
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe
d and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears.
 my eyes are oftener wash
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear,
For beasts that meet me run away for fear:
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia
But who is here? Lysander, on the ground!
Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.
[_Waking._] And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
Transparent Helena! Nature showsM
That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
Is that vile name to perish on my sword!
Do not say so, Lysander, say not so.
What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.
Content with Hermia? No, I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena I love.
Who will not change a raven for a dove?
The will of man is by his reason sway
And reason says you are M
Things growing are not ripe until their season;
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason;
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes, where I o
s stories, written in love
Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
t not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can
Deserve a sweet look from DemeM
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
In such disdainful manner me to woo.
But fare you well; perforce I must confess,
I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
O, that a lady of one man refus
Should of another therefore be abus
She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there,
And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
 the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive;
So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
Of all be hated, but the most of me!
And, all my powers, address your love and might
To honour Helen, and to be her knight!
[_Starting._] Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear.
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruM
Lysander! What, removed? Lysander! lord!
What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word?
Alack, where are you? Speak, and if you hear;
Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh.
Either death or you I
ll find immediately.
 The Queen of Fairies still lying asleep.
 Enter Bottom, Quince, Snout, Starveling, Snug and Flute.
s a marvellous conveM
nient place for our rehearsal.
This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our
tiring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the
What sayest thou, bully Bottom?
There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that will never
please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the
ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?
r lakin, a parlous fear.
I believe we must leave the kM
illing out, when all is done.
Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue, and
let the prologue seem to say we will do no harm with our swords, and
that Pyramus is not killed indeed; and for the more better assurance,
tell them that I Pyramus am not Pyramus but Bottom the weaver. This
will put them out of fear.
Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written in eight
No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.
Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
I fear it, I promise you.
Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves, to bring in (God shield
us!) a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. For there is not a
more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought to look to
Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.
Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the
s neck; and he himself must speak through, M
saying thus, or to the
Fair ladies, I would wish you,
I would entreat you, not to fear, not to
tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it
were pity of my life. No, I am no such thing; I am a man as other men
: and there, indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly
he is Snug the joiner.
Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things: that is, to bring
the moonlight into a chambeM
r, for you know, Pyramus and Thisbe meet by
Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?
A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanack; find out moonshine, find
Yes, it doth shine that night.
Why, then may you leave a casement of the great chamber window, where
we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the casement.
Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lantern, and
say he comes to disfigure or to presentM
 the person of Moonshine. Then
there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for
Pyramus and Thisbe, says the story, did talk through the chink of a
You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?
Some man or other must present Wall. And let him have some plaster, or
some loam, or some rough-cast about him, to signify wall; and let him
hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisbe
If that may be, then all is weM
ll. Come, sit down, every mother
and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your
speech, enter into that brake; and so everyone according to his cue.
What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here,
So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen?
What, a play toward? I
An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
Thisbe, stand forth.
_Thisbe, the flowers of odious savours sweet_
_. . . odours savours sweet.
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear.
But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile,
And by and by I will to thee appear._
A stranger Pyramus than e
Ay, marry, must you, For you must understand he goes but to see a noise
that he heard, and is to come again.
_Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,M
Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire,
ll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny
 tomb, man! Why, you must not speak that yet. That you answer to
Pyramus. You speak all your part at once, cues, and all.
Your cue is past; it is
O, _As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire._
 Enter Puck and Bottom with an ass
_If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only tM
O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray, masters, fly, masters!
ll lead you about a round,
   Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier;
ll be, sometime a hound,
   A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make meM
O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on thee?
What do you see? You see an ass-head of your own, do you?
Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! Thou art translated.
I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of me, to fright me, if
they could. But I will not stir from this place, do what they can. I
will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am
       The ousel cock, so black of hue,
          With orange-tawny bill,
       The throstle with his note so true,
          The wren with little quill.
[_Waking._] What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
       The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
          The plain-song cuckoo gray,
       Whose note full many a man doth mark,
          And dares not answer nay.
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird? Who would give
a bird the lie, though he cryM
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again.
Mine ear is much enamour
So is mine eye enthrall
s force perforce doth move me,
On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.
Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that. And yet, to
say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.
The more the pity that some honest neighbours will not make them
friends. Nay, I can gleek upon M
Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I
have enough to serve mine own turn.
Out of this wood do not desire to go.
Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate.
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me.
ll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing, while thou on M
d flowers dost sleep.
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
 Enter four Fairies.
Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from tM
And for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs,
And light them at the fiery glow-worm
To have my love to bed and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
I cry your worships mercy, heartily.
I beseech your worship
I shall desire you oM
f more acquaintance, good Master Cobweb. If I cut
my finger, I shall make bold with you.
Your name, honest gentleman?
I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and to Master
Peascod, your father. Good Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of
more acquaintance too.
Your name, I beseech you, sir?
Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well. That same cowardly
giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a genM
tleman of your house. I
promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire you
of more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.
Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
   The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye,
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
   Lamenting some enforced chastity.
s tongue, bring him silently.
SCENE II. Another part of the wood
I wonder if Titania be awak
s that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on in extremity.
Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit?
What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus
The shallowest thick-skin of that barrenM
Who Pyramus presented in their sport,
Forsook his scene and enter
When I did him at this advantage take,
s nole I fixed on his head.
Anon, his Thisbe must be answer
And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
So at his sight away his fellows fly,
And at our stamp, here o
der cries, and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears, thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there.
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
d, and straightway lov
This falls out better than I could devise.
But hast thou yet latch
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
And the Athenian woman by his side,
d, of force she must be ey
 Enter Demetrius and Hermia.
Stand close. This is the same Athenian.
This is the woman, but not this the man.
O why rebuke you him that loves you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse,
For thou, I fear, hast giM
ven me cause to curse.
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
The sun was not so true unto the day
As he to me. Would he have stol
From sleeping Hermia? I
This whole earth may be bor
d, and that the moon
May through the centre creep and so displease
It cannot be but thou hast murder
So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.
d look, and so should I,
d through the heart with your stern cruelty.
Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
s this to my Lysander? Where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou driv
st me past the bounds
s patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
Henceforth be never number
rue; tell true, even for my sake!
Durst thou have look
d upon him, being awake,
d him sleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
You spend your passion on a mispris
I am not guilty of Lysander
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
And if I could, what should I get therefM
A privilege never to see me more.
And from thy hated presence part I so:
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.
There is no following her in this fierce vein.
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain.
s heaviness doth heavier grow
For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
If for his tender here I make some stay.
What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite,
d the love-juice on some true-love
Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
d, and not a false turn
er-rules, that, one man holding troth,
A million fail, confounding oath on oath.
About the wood go swifter than the wind,
And Helena of Athens look thou find.
All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer
With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.
By some illusion see thou bring her here;
ll charm his eyes against she do appeM
I go, I go; look how I go,
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar
    Flower of this purple dye,
    Sink in apple of his eye.
    When his love he doth espy,
    Let her shine as gloriously
    As the Venus of the sky.
    Beg of her for remedy.
    Captain of our fairy band,
    Helena is here at hand,
    And the youth mistook by me,
    Pleading for a lover
    Shall we their fond pageant see?
    Lord, what fools these mortals be!
    Stand aside. The noise they make
    Will cause Demetrius to awake.
    Then will two at once woo one.
    That must needs be sport alone;
    And those things do best please me
    That befall prepost
 Enter Lysander and Helena.
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
Scorn and derision never come in tears.
Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
ivity all truth appears.
How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
You do advance your cunning more and more.
When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!
These vows are Hermia
s: will you give her o
Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:
Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.
I had no judgment when to her I swore.
Nor none, in my mind, now you give hM
Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
[_Waking._] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
d white, high Taurus
d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow
st up thy hand. O, let me kiss
This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
O spite! O hell! I see you all are benM
To set against me for your merriment.
If you were civil, and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join in souls to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so;
To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena.
A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
To conjure tears up in a poor mM
With your derision! None of noble sort
Would so offend a virgin, and extort
s patience, all to make you sport.
You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so,
For you love Hermia; this you know I know.
And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
s love I yield you up my part;
And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
Whom I do love and will do till my death.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none.
d her, all that love is gone.
My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn
And now to Helen is it home return
Helen, it is not so.
Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
Lest to thy peril thou aby it dear.
Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
It pays the hearingM
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
Why should he stay whom love doth press to go?
What love could press Lysander from my side?
s love, that would not let him bide,
Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
st thou me? Could not this make thee know
The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so?
You speak not as you think; it cannot be.
Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
Now I perceive they have conjoin
To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid!
d, have you with these contriv
To bait me with this foul derision?
Is all the counsel that we two have shar
 vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
 friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet a union in partition,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly,
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury.
d at your passionate words:
I scorn you not; it seems that you scorn me.
Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
To follow me, and praise my eyes and face?
And made your other love, Demetrius,
Who even but now did spurn me with hisM
To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,
Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lysander
Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
And tender me, forsooth, affection,
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So hung upon with love, so fortunate,
But miserable most, to love unlov
This you should pity rather than despise.
I understand not what you mean by this.
Ay, do. Persever, counterfM
Make mouths upon me when I turn my back,
Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up.
This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument.
Tis partly my own fault,
Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.
Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;
My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
Sweet, do not scorn her so.
If she cannot entreat, M
Thou canst compel no more than she entreat;
Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers.
Helen, I love thee, by my life I do;
I swear by that which I will lose for thee
To prove him false that says I love thee not.
I say I love thee more than he can do.
If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
Lysander, whereto tends all this?
eak loose. Take on as you would follow,
But yet come not. You are a tame man, go!
Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
Why are you grown so rude? What change is this,
Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out!
d medicine! O hated potion, hence!
Yes, sooth, and so do you.
Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
our bond; for I perceive
A weak bond holds you; I
ll not trust your word.
What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, I
What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
Hate me? Wherefore? O me! what news, my love?
Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
I am as fair now as I was erewhile.
d me; yet since night you left me.
Why then, you left me
In earnest, shall I say?
And never did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
Be certain, nothing truer;
That I do hate thee and love Helena.
O me! You juggler! You cankerblossom!
You thief of love! What! have you come by night
Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, M
Puppet! Why so? Ay, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures; she hath urg
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail
And are you grown so high in his esteem
Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak,
How low am I? I am not yet so low
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
er not hurt me. I was never curst;
I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
I am a right maid for my cowardice;
Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
Because she is something lower than myself,
That I can match her.
Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
I evermore did love you, Hermia,
Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong
Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
d you; for love I follow
But he hath chid me hence, and threaten
To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I bear my folly back,
And follow you no further. Let me go:
You see how simple and how fond I am.
Why, get you gone. Who is
A foolish heart that I leave here behind.
What! with Lysander?
Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
hall not, though you take her part.
s angry, she is keen and shrewd.
She was a vixen when she went to school,
And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Little again! Nothing but low and little?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Get you gone, you dwarf;
You minimus, of hind
ring knot-grass made;
You bead, you acorn.
You are too officious
In her behalf that scorns your services.
Let her alone. Speak not of HeleM
Take not her part; for if thou dost intend
Never so little show of love to her,
Now she holds me not.
Now follow, if thou dar
st, to try whose right,
Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
ll go with thee, cheek by jole.
 [_Exeunt Lysander and Demetrius._]
You, mistress, all this coil is long of you.
I will not trust you, I,
Nor longer stay in your curst company.
Your hands than mine are quickerM
My legs are longer though, to run away.
d, and know not what to say.
 [_Exit, pursuing Helena._]
This is thy negligence: still thou mistak
st thy knaveries willfully.
Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
Did not you tell me I should know the man
By the Athenian garments he had on?
And so far blameless proves my enterprise
And so far am I glad it so did sort,
his their jangling I esteem a sport.
Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight.
Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;
The starry welkin cover thou anon
With drooping fog, as black as Acheron,
And lead these testy rivals so astray
As one come not within another
Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
And sometime rail thou like Demetrius.
And from each other look thou lead them thus,
er their brows death-counterfeiting sleeM
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.
Then crush this herb into Lysander
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
To take from thence all error with his might
And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision;
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,
With league whose date till death shall never end.
Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
ll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;
And then I will her charm
s view, and all things shall be peace.
My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast;
And yonder shines Aurora
At whose approach, ghosts wandering here and there
Troop home to churchyards. Damn
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone;
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consM
But we are spirits of another sort:
s love have oft made sport;
And, like a forester, the groves may tread
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair bless
Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams.
But, notwithstanding, haste, make no delay.
We may effect this business yet ere day.
    Up and down, up and down,
    I will lead them up and down.
    Goblin, lead them up and down.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now.
Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?
I will be with thee straight.
Follow me then to plainer ground.
 [_Exit Lysander as following the voice._]
Lysander, speak again.
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speak. In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
t thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes that thou look
And wilt not come? Come, recreant, come, thou child!
ll whip thee with a rod. He is defil
That draws a sword on thee.
Yea, art thou there?
ll try no manhood here.
He goes before me, and still dares me on;
When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
The villain is much lighter-heel
d fast, but faster he dM
That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
And here will rest me.  Come, thou gentle day!
[_Lies down._] For if but once thou show me thy grey light,
ll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite.
 Enter Puck and Demetrius.
Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com
Abide me, if thou dar
st before me, shifting every place,
st not stand, nor look me in the face.
Come hither; I am here.
Nay, then, thou mock
st me. Thou shalt buy this dear
If ever I thy face by daylight see:
Now go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
To measure out my length on this cold bed.
s approach look to be visited.
 [_Lies down and sleeps._]
O weary night, O long and tedious night,
    Abate thy hours! Shine, comforts, from the east,
That I may back to Athens by daylight,
    From these that my poor company detest.
And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow
eal me awhile from mine own company.
    Yet but three? Come one more.
    Two of both kinds makes up four.
    Here she comes, curst and sad.
    Cupid is a knavish lad
    Thus to make poor females mad.
Never so weary, never so in woe,
   Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers,
I can no further crawl, no further go;
   My legs can keep no pace with my desires.
Here will I rest me till the break of day.
Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fM
         On the ground
         Sleep sound.
         To your eye,
       Gentle lover, remedy.
 [_Squeezing the juice on Lysander
         When thou wak
         True delight
         In the sight
       Of thy former lady
       And the country proverb known,
       That every man should take his own,
       In your waking shall be shown:
         Jack shall have Jill;
         Nought shall M
The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.
 Lysander, Demetrius, Helena and Hermia still asleep.
 Enter Titania and Bottom; Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed and
 other Fairies attending; Oberon behind, unseen.
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
   While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
   And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where
Monsieur Cobweb; good monsieur, get you your weapons in your hand and
kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good
monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the
action, monsieur; and, good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break
not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior.
s Monsieur Mustardseed?
Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy,
Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch. I must
s, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the
face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must
What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let us hM
ave the tongs and the
Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks
I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no
I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.
I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let
none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon
Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Gently entwist, the female ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee!
 Oberon advances. Enter Puck.
Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I do begin to pity.
For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool,
I did upbraid her and fM
For she his hairy temples then had rounded
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;
And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,
Stood now within the pretty flouriets
Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
And she in mild terms begg
I then did ask of her her changeling child;
Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
To bear him to my bower in fairyland.
 now I have the boy, I will undo
This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
And, gentle Puck, take this transform
From off the head of this Athenian swain,
That he awaking when the other do,
May all to Athens back again repair,
And think no more of this night
But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
But first I will release the Fairy Queen.
 [_Touching her eyes with an herb._]
    Be as thou wast wont to be;
    See as thou was wont to see.
    Hath such force and blessed power.
Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen.
My Oberon, what visions have I seen!
Methought I was enamour
There lies your love.
How came these things to pass?
O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!
Robin, take off this head.
Titania, music call; and strike more dead
Than common sleep, of all these five the sense.
Music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep.
st, with thine own fool
Come, my queen, take hands with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will tomorrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus
 house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair prosperity:
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
    Fairy king, attend and mark.
    I do hear the morning lark.
y queen, in silence sad,
    Trip we after night
    We the globe can compass soon,
    Swifter than the wand
    Come, my lord, and in our flight,
    Tell me how it came this night
    That I sleeping here was found
    With these mortals on the ground.
 [_Exeunt. Horns sound within._]
 Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus and Train.
Go, one of you, find out the forester;
For now our observation is perform
And since we have the vaward of the day,
 love shall hear the music of my hounds.
Uncouple in the western valley; let them go.
Dispatch I say, and find the forester.
 [_Exit an Attendant._]
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain
And mark the musical confusion
Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Crete they bay
With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear
Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves,
The skies, the fountains, every region near
 one mutual cry. I never heard
So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
d, so sanded; and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
d like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but match
d in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tuneable
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly.
Judge when you hear.
But, soft, what nymphs are these?
My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
And this Lysander; this Demetrius is;
This Helena, old Nedar
I wonder of their being here together.
No doubt they rose up early to observe
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.
But speak, Egeus; is not this the day
That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
 Horns, and shout within. Demetrius, LysandeM
r, Hermia and Helena wake
Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past.
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
 He and the rest kneel to  Theseus.
I pray you all, stand up.
I know you two are rival enemies.
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so far from jealousy
To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?
My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half sleep, half waking; but as yet, I swear,
I cannot truly say how I M
But, as I think (for truly would I speak)
And now I do bethink me, so it is:
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be,
Without the peril of the Athenian law.
Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough.
I beg the law, the law upon his head.
They would have stol
n away, they would, Demetrius,
Thereby to have defeated you and me:
You of your wife, and me of my consent,
Of my consent that she should be your wife.
en told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow
Fair Helena in fancy following me.
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,
(But by some power it is) my love to Hermia,
Melted as the snow, seems to me now
As the remembrance of an idle gaud
Which in my childhood I did dote upon;
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
 sickness did I loathe this food.
But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,
And will for evermore be true to it.
Fair lovers, you are fortunately met.
Of this discourse we more will hear anon.
Egeus, I will overbear your will;
For in the temple, by and by with us,
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And, for the morning now is something worn,
d hunting shall be set aside.
Away with us to Athens. Three and three,
 [_Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus and Train._]
These things seem small and undistinguishable,
Like far-off mountains turn
Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
When everything seems double.
And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
Mine own, and not mine own.
That we are awake? It seems to me
That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think
The Duke was here, and bid uM
And he did bid us follow to the temple.
Why, then, we are awake: let
And by the way let us recount our dreams.
[_Waking._] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is
 Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender!
Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God
n hence, and left me
asleep! I have had a most rare visionM
. I have had a dream, past the wit
of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about to
expound this dream. Methought I was
there is no man can tell what.
Methought I was, and methought I had
but man is but a patched fool if
he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not
heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man
s hand is not able to taste,
his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I
will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it sM
, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it
in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peradventure, to make it
the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death.
SCENE II. Athens. A Room in Quince
 Enter Quince, Flute, Snout and Starveling.
Have you sent to Bottom
s house? Is he come home yet?
He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.
If he come not, then the play is marred. It goes noM
It is not possible. You have not a man in all Athens able to discharge
No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens.
Yea, and the best person too, and he is a very paramour for a sweet
You must say paragon. A paramour is, God bless us, a thing of naught.
Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three
lords and ladies more married. If our sport had gone forM
O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life;
scaped sixpence a day. An the Duke had not given him
sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I
ll be hanged. He would have
deserved it: sixpence a day in Pyramus, or nothing.
Where are these lads? Where are these hearts?
Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour!
Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; M
you, I am not true Athenian. I will tell you everything, right as it
Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is, that the Duke hath
dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new
ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look
er his part. For the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In
any case, let Thisbe have clean linen; and let not him that plays the
lion pare his nails, forM
 they shall hang out for the lion
most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlick, for we are to utter sweet
breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say it is a sweet comedy.
No more words. Away! Go, away!
SCENE I. Athens. An Apartment in the Palace of Theseus
 Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, Lords and Attendants.
Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.
More strange than true. I never may believe
les, nor these fairy toys.
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact:
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold;
That is the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
s beauty in a brow of Egypt:
s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things uM
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Such tricks hath strong imagination,
That if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy.
Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear?
But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur
More witnesseth than fancy
And grows to something of great constancy;
But, howsoever, strange aM
 Enter lovers: Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia and Helena.
Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
Joy, gentle friends, joy and fresh days of love
Accompany your hearts!
Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!
Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have,
To wear away this long age of three hours
Between our after-supper and bed-time?
Where is our usual manager of mirth?
What revels are in hand? Is there no play
he anguish of a torturing hour?
Here, mighty Theseus.
Say, what abridgment have you for this evening?
What masque? What music? How shall we beguile
The lazy time, if not with some delight?
There is a brief how many sports are ripe.
Make choice of which your Highness will see first.
 [_Giving a paper._]
The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung
By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.
ll none of that. That have I tolM
In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,
Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage?
That is an old device, and it was play
When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
The thrice three Muses mourning for the death
Of learning, late deceas
That is some satire, keen and critical,
Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.
A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus
And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.
Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief?
That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow.
How shall we find the concord of this discord?
A play there is, my lord, some ten words long,
Which is as brief as I have known a play;
But by ten words, my lord, it is too long,
Which makes it tedious. For in all the play
There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
And tragical, my noble lord, it is.
For Pyramus therein doth kill himself,
Which, when I saw rehears
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
oud laughter never shed.
What are they that do play it?
Hard-handed men that work in Athens here,
d in their minds till now;
With this same play against your nuptial.
And we will hear it.
It is not for you: I have heard it over,
And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unless you can find sport in their intents,
I will hear that play;
For never anything can be amiss
When simpleness and duty tender it.
Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies.
 [_Exit Philostrate._]
I love not to see wretchedness o
And duty in his service perishing.
Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
He says they can do nothing in this kind.
The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing.
Our sport shall be to take what they miM
And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practis
d accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence yet I pick
And in the modesty of fearful duty
I read as much as from the rattling tongM
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most to my capacity.
So please your grace, the Prologue is address
 Flourish of trumpets. Enter the Prologue.
If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you should think, we come not to offend,
But with good will.  To show our simple skill,
That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider then, we come but in despite.
do not come, as minding to content you,
Our true intent is.  All for your delight
We are not here.  That you should here repent you,
The actors are at hand, and, by their show,
You shall know all that you are like to know.
This fellow doth not stand upon points.
He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt; he knows not the stop. A
good moral, my lord: it is not enough to speak, but to speak true.
Indeed he hath played on this prologue like a child on a recorder; a
d, but not in government.
His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all
disordered. Who is next?
 Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine and Lion as in dumb show.
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
This beauteous lady Thisbe is certain.
This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder;
poor souls, they are content
To whisper, at the which let no man wonder.
This man, with lanthern, dog, and bush of thorn,
Presenteth Moonshine, for, if you will know,
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
 tomb, there, there to woo.
This grisly beast (which Lion hight by name)
The trusty Thisbe, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright;
And as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, andM
And finds his trusty Thisbe
Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
d his boiling bloody breast;
And Thisbe, tarrying in mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain,
At large discourse while here they do remain.
 [_Exeunt Prologue, Pyramus, Thisbe, Lion and Moonshine._]
I wonder if the lion be to speak.
No wonder, my lord. One lion may, when many asses do.
In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall:
And such a wall as I would have you think
That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe,
Did whisper often very secretly.
This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show
That I am that same wall; the truth is so:
And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
t is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
Pyramus draws near the wall; silence.
d night! O night with hue so black!
O night, which ever art when day is not!
O night, O night, alack, alack, alack,
s promise is forgot!
And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
st between her father
Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne.
 [_Wall holds up his fingers._]
Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!
But what see I? No Thisbe do I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss,
d be thy stones for thus deceiving me!
The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
No, in truth, sir, he should not.
is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see it
will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.
O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
For parting my fair Pyramus and me.
My cherry lips have often kiss
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
I see a voice; now will I to the chink,
To spy an I can hear my Thisbe
My love thou art, my love I think.
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover
And like Limander am I trusty still.
And I like Helen, till the fates me kill.
to Procrus was so true.
As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.
s hole, not your lips at all.
s tomb meet me straightway?
tide death, I come without delay.
Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
 [_Exeunt Wall, Pyramus and Thisbe._]
Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if
imagination amend them.
It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass
for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.
 Enter Lion and Moonshine.
 whose gentle hearts do fear
The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,
When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am
A lion fell, nor else no lion
For if I should as lion come in strife
twere pity on my life.
A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
The very best at a beast, my lord, that e
This lion is a very fox for his valM
True; and a goose for his discretion.
Not so, my lord, for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the
fox carries the goose.
His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose
carries not the fox. It is well; leave it to his discretion, and let us
This lanthorn doth the horn
He should have worn the horns on his head.
He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible withiM
This lanthorn doth the horn
 the moon do seem to be.
This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man should be put into
the lantern. How is it else the man i
He dares not come there for the candle, for you see, it is already in
I am aweary of this moon. Would he would change!
It appears by his small light of discretion that he is in the wane; but
sy, in all reason, we must stay the time.
All that I have to say, is to tell you that the lantern is the moon; I
 the moon; this thorn-bush my thorn-bush; and this dog my
Why, all these should be in the lantern, for all these are in the moon.
But silence; here comes Thisbe.
s tomb. Where is my love?
 [_The Lion roars, Thisbe runs off._]
Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.
 [_The Lion tears Thisbe
s mantle, and exit._]
And then came Pyramus.
And so the lion vanished.
Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
For, by thy gracious golden, glittering gleams,
I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.
             But stay! O spite!
    But mark, poor knight,
         What dreadful dole is here!
             Eyes, do you see?
             How can it be?
         O dainty duck! O dear!
             Thy mantle good,
             What, stained with blood?
         Approach, ye Furies fell!
             O Fates, come, come;
             Cut thread and thrum;
         Quail, rush, conclude, and quell!
This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a
Beshrew my heart, but I piM
O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame,
Since lion vile hath here deflower
which was the fairest dame
             Come, tears, confound!
             Out, sword, and wound
         The pap of Pyramus;
             Ay, that left pap,
             Where heart doth hop:
         Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
             Now am I dead,
             Now am I fled;
             Tongue, lose thy light!
             Moon, take thy flight!
         Now die, die, die, die, die.
 [_Dies. Exit Moonshine._]
No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
Less than an ace, man; for he is dead, he is nothing.
With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover and prove an ass.
How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her
She will find him by starlight.
Here she comes, and her passion ends the play.
Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus. I hope she
A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the
better: he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us!
She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
And thus she means, _videlicet_
             Asleep, my love?
             What, dead, my dove?
             Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
             Dead, dead? A tomb
         Must cover thy sweet eyes.
             These lily lips,
             This cherry nose,
         These yellow cowslip cheeks,
             Are gone, are gone!
             Lovers, make moan;
         His eyes were green as leeks.
             O Sisters Three,
             Come, come to me,
         With hands as pale as milk;
             Lay them in gore,
             Since you have shore
         With shears hM
             Tongue, not a word:
             Come, trusty sword,
         Come, blade, my breast imbrue;
             And farewell, friends.
             Thus Thisbe ends.
         Adieu, adieu, adieu.
Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it
please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance between
No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse;
for when the players are all dead there need none to be blamed. Marry,
if he that writ it had played Pyramus, and hanged himself in Thisbe
garter, it would have been a fine tragedy; and so it is, truly; and
very notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask; let your epilogue
 [_Here a dance of Clowns._]
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.
tis almost fairy time.
I fear we shall outsleep the comiM
As much as we this night have overwatch
This palpable-gross play hath well beguil
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity
In nightly revels and new jollity.
   Now the hungry lion roars,
      And the wolf behowls the moon;
   Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
      All with weary task fordone.
   Now the wasted brands do glow,
      Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
   Puts the wretch that lies M
      In remembrance of a shroud.
   Now it is the time of night
      That the graves, all gaping wide,
   Every one lets forth his sprite,
      In the church-way paths to glide.
   And we fairies, that do run
      By the triple Hecate
   From the presence of the sun,
      Following darkness like a dream,
   Now are frolic; not a mouse
      Shall disturb this hallow
   I am sent with broom before,
      To sweep the dust behind the door.
 Enter Oberon and Titania withM
   Through the house give glimmering light,
        By the dead and drowsy fire.
   Every elf and fairy sprite
        Hop as light as bird from brier,
   And this ditty after me,
   Sing and dance it trippingly.
   First rehearse your song by rote,
        To each word a warbling note;
   Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
   Will we sing, and bless this place.
 [_Song and Dance._]
   Now, until the break of day,
   Through this house each fairy stray.
  To the best bride-bed will we,
   Which by us shall bless
   And the issue there create
   Ever shall be fortunate.
   So shall all the couples three
   Ever true in loving be;
   And the blots of Nature
   Shall not in their issue stand:
   Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
   Nor mark prodigious, such as are
   Despised in nativity,
   Shall upon their children be.
   With this field-dew consecrate,
   Every fairy take his gait,
   And each several chamber bless,
   Through this palM
ace, with sweet peace;
   And the owner of it blest.
   Ever shall it in safety rest,
   Trip away. Make no stay;
   Meet me all by break of day.
 [_Exeunt Oberon, Titania and Train._]
   If we shadows have offended,
   Think but this, and all is mended,
   That you have but slumber
   While these visions did appear.
   And this weak and idle theme,
   No more yielding but a dream,
   Gentles, do not reprehend.
   If you pardon, we will mend.
   And, as I am an honest Puck,
   We will make amends ere long;
   Else the Puck a liar call.
   So, good night unto you all.
   Give me your hands, if we be friends,
   And Robin shall restore amends.
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THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET
by William Shakespeare
Scene I. A public place.
Scene III. Room in Capulet
Scene V. A Hall in Capulet
Scene I. An open place adjoining Capulet
Scene III. Friar Lawrence
Scene VI. Friar Lawrence
Scene I. A public Place.
Scene III. Friar Lawrence
Scene IV. A Room in Capulet
Scene V. An open Gallery to Juliet
s Chamber, overlooking the Garden.
Scene I. Friar Lawrence
Scene II. Hall in Capulet
Scene IV. Hall in Capulet
s Chamber; Juliet on the bed.
Scene I. Mantua. A Street.
Scene II. Friar Lawrence
Scene III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the CapuleM
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
MERCUTIO, kinsman to the Prince, and friend to Romeo.
PARIS, a young Nobleman, kinsman to the Prince.
MONTAGUE, head of a Veronese family at feud with the Capulets.
LADY MONTAGUE, wife to Montague.
ROMEO, son to Montague.
BENVOLIO, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo.
ABRAM, servant to Montague.
BALTHASAR, servant to Romeo.
CAPULET, head of a Veronese family at feud with the Montagues.
LADY CAPULET, wife to Capulet.
daughter to Capulet.
TYBALT, nephew to Lady Capulet.
S COUSIN, an old man.
PETER, servant to Juliet
SAMPSON, servant to Capulet.
GREGORY, servant to Capulet.
FRIAR LAWRENCE, a Franciscan.
FRIAR JOHN, of the same Order.
Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses;
Maskers, Guards, Watchmen and Attendants.
SCENE. During the greater part of the Play in Verona; once, in the
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross
d lovers take their life;
d piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents
The fearful passage of their death-mark
And the continuance of their parents
Which, but their children
s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours
 traffic of our stage;
The which, if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
SCENE I. A public place.
 Enter Sampson and Gregory armed with swords and bucklers.
Gregory, on my word, we
No, for then we should be colliers.
I mean, if we be in choler, we
Ay, while you live,M
 draw your neck out o
I strike quickly, being moved.
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou
art moved, thou runn
A dog of that house shall move me to stand.
I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague
That shows thee a weak slave, for the weakest goes to the wall.
 therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to
the wall: therefore I will push Montague
s men from the wall, and
thrust his maids to the wall.
The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the
men I will be civil with the maids, I will cut off their heads.
The heads of the maids?
Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense
They must take it in sense that feel it.
Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and
pretty piece of flesh.
Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.
Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of Montagues.
 Enter Abram and Balthasar.
My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
How? Turn thy back and run?
No, marry; I fear thee!
e law of our sides; let them begin.
I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is disgrace to
them if they bear it.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
I do bite my thumb, sir.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Is the law of our side if I say ay?
No sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.
Say better; here comes one of my master
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow.
Part, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.
 [_Beats down their swords._]
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.
I do but keep the peace, put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward.
 Enter three or four Citizens with clubs.
Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
 Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet.
What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
 Enter Montague and his Lady Montague.
Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not, let me go.
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
 Enter Prince Escalus, with Attendants.
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
ofaners of this neighbour-stained steel,
Will they not hear? What, ho! You men, you beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper
d weapons to the ground
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
d the quiet of our streets,
Cast by their grave beM
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
d with peace, to part your canker
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me,
And Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our farther pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgement-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
 [_Exeunt Prince and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Capulet, TM
 Citizens and Servants._]
Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Here were the servants of your adversary
And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.
I drew to part them, in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar
d defiance to my ears,
He swung about his head, and cut the winds,
Who nothing hurt withal, hiss
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows
 and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
O where is Romeo, saw you him today?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Madam, an hour before the worshipp
d forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad,
Where underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from this city side,
So early walking did I see your son.
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me,
And stole into the covM
I, measuring his affections by my own,
Which then most sought where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self,
d my humour, not pursuing his,
d who gladly fled from me.
Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora
ay from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Both by myself and many other friends;
But he, his own affections
I will not say how true
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud bit with an envious worm
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure as know.
See, where he comes. So please you step aside;
ll know his grievance or be much denied.
I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
ue shrift. Come, madam, let
 [_Exeunt Montague and Lady Montague._]
Good morrow, cousin.
Is the day so young?
But new struck nine.
Ay me, sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo
Not having that which, having, makes them short.
Out of her favour where I am in love.
hat love so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.
Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
s much to do with hate, but more with love:
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O anything, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fM
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
No coz, I rather weep.
Good heart, at what?
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which thou wilt propagate to have it prest
With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of M
d, a fire sparkling in lovers
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Soft! I will go along:
And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here.
This is not Romeo, he
Tell me in sadness who is that you love?
What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Groan! Why, no; but sadly tell me who.
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will,
d to one that is so ill.
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
d so near when I suppos
A right good markman, and she
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
Well, in that hit you miss: she
s arrow, she hath Dian
And in strong proof of chastity well arm
s weak childish bow she lives uncharm
She will not stay the siege of loving terms
encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
s rich in beauty, only poor
That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;
d with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
 bliss by making me despair.
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
d by me, forget to think of her.
O teach me how I should forget to think.
By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other beauties.
To call hers, exquisite, in question more.
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies
Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair;
He that is strucken blind cannot forget
ous treasure of his eyesight lost.
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note
Where I may read who pass
d that passing fair?
Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget.
ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
 Enter Capulet, Paris and Servant.
But Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and
tis not hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.
koning are you both,
But now my lord, what say you to my suit?
er what I have said before.
My child is yet a stranger in the world,
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;
Let two more summers wither in their pride
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
Younger than she are happy mothers made.
d are those so early made.
The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she,
ul lady of my earth:
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part;
And she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accustom
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love, and you among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be:
Which, on more view of many, mine, being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names are written there, [_gives a paper_] and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
 [_Exeunt Capulet and M
Find them out whose names are written here! It is written that the
shoemaker should meddle with his yard and the tailor with his last, the
fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to
find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what
names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned. In good
 Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
Tut, man, one fire burns out another
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.
Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
For what, I pray thee?
For your broken shin.
Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Not mad, but bound more than a madman is:
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
God-den, good fellow.
 go-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Perhaps you have learned it without book.
But I pray, can you read anything you see?
Ay, If I know the letters and the language.
Ye say honestly, rest you merry!
Stay, fellow; I can read.
 [_He reads the letter._]
_Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters;
The lady widow of Utruvio;
Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces;
tio and his brother Valentine;
Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters;
My fair niece Rosaline and Livia;
Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt;
Lucio and the lively Helena. _
A fair assembly. [_Gives back the paper_] Whither should they come?
Indeed I should have ask
ll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich CaM
and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray come and crush a
cup of wine. Rest you merry.
At this same ancient feast of Capulet
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov
With all the admired beauties of Verona.
Go thither and with unattainted eye,
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire;
And these who, often drM
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars.
One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun
er saw her match since first the world begun.
Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
d with herself in either eye:
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh
s love against some other maid
That I will show you shining at this feast,
And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
ll go along, no such sight to be shown,
 to rejoice in splendour of my own.
SCENE III. Room in Capulet
 Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.
s my daughter? Call her forth to me.
Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
I bade her come. What, lamb! What ladybird!
s this girl? What, Juliet!
Madam, I am here. What is your will?
This is the matter. Nurse, give leaM
We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again,
Thou knowest my daughter
Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
ll lay fourteen of my teeth,
And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
A fortnight and odd days.
Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Come Lammas Eve at nigM
ht shall she be fourteen.
God rest all Christian souls!
Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me. But as I said,
On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
I never shall forget it
Of all the days of the year, upon that day:
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall;
My lord and you were then at Mantua:M
Nay, I do bear a brain. But as I said,
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug!
Shake, quoth the dovehouse:
twas no need, I trow,
And since that time it is eleven years;
For then she could stand alone; nay, by th
She could have run and waddled all about;
For even the day before she broke her brow,
And then my husband,
God be with his soul!
dost thou fall upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule?
 and, by my holidame,
The pretty wretch left crying, and said
To see now how a jest shall come about.
I warrant, and I should live a thousand years,
I never should forget it.
Wilt thou not, Jule?
And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said
Enough of this; I pray thee hold thy peace.
Yes, madam, yet I cannot choose but laugh,
o think it should leave crying, and say
And yet I warrant it had upon it brow
A bump as big as a young cockerel
A perilous knock, and it cried bitterly.
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
Wilt thou not, Jule?
 it stinted, and said
And stint thou too, I pray thee, Nurse, say I.
Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e
ight live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
Marry, that marry is the very theme
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your disposition to be married?
It is an honour that I dream not of.
An honour! Were not I thine only nurse,
I would say thou hadst suck
d wisdom from thy teat.
Well, think of marriage now: younger than you,
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers. By my count
I was your mother much upon tM
That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief;
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
A man, young lady! Lady, such a man
s summer hath not such a flower.
s a flower, in faith a very flower.
What say you, can you love the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feast;
er the volume of young Paris
And find delight writ there with beauty
mine every married lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
d in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margent of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
The fish lives in the sea; and
For fair without the fair within to hide.
s eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, making yourself no leM
No less, nay bigger. Women grow by men.
Speak briefly, can you like of Paris
ll look to like, if looking liking move:
But no more deep will I endart mine eye
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady
asked for, the Nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in extremity.
I must hence to wait, I beseech you follow straight.
Juliet, the County stays.
Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
 Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers;
 Torch-bearers and others.
What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
The date is out of such prolixity:
ll have no Cupid hoodwink
s painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keepM
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance:
But let them measure us by what they will,
ll measure them a measure, and be gone.
Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy I will bear the light.
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Not I, believe me, you have dancing shoes,
With nimble soles, I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
You are a lover, borrow Cupid
And soar with them above a common bound.
I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
s heavy burden do I sink.
And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.
If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
Prick love for pricking, and M
Give me a case to put my visage in: [_Putting on a mask._]
A visor for a visor. What care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.
Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.
A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;
d with a grandsire phrase,
ll be a candle-holder and look on,
s the mouse, the constable
ll draw thee from the mire
Or save your reverence love, wherein thou stickest
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho.
I mean sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, light lights by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
And we mean well in going to this mask;
I dreamt a dream tonight.
Well what was yours?
That dreamers often lie.
In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
 midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
s noses as they lie asleep:
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her traces, of the smallest spider
The collars, of the moonshine
s bone; the lash, of film;
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
d from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
And in this state she gallops night by night
 then they dream of love;
 knees, that dream on curtsies straight;
 fingers, who straight dream on fees;
 lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
Sometime she gallops o
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig
s nose as a lies asleep,
Then dreams he of another benefM
Sometime she driveth o
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscados, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night;
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage:
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,
True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
d, puffs away from thence,
Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves:
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
I fear too early: for my mind misgives
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
s revels; and expire the term
Of a despised life, clos
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my suit. On, lusty gentlemen!
SCENE V. A Hall in CapuletM
 Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.
s Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
He shift a trencher! He scrape a trencher!
When good manners shall lie all in one or two men
Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the
plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and as thou loves me,
let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. Antony and Potpan!
You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the
We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys. Be brisk awhile, and
the longer liver take all.
 Enter Capulet, &c. with the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.
Welcome, gentlemen, ladies that have their toes
d with corns will have a bout with you.
Ah my mistresses, which of you all
Will now deny to dance? She thaM
ll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now?
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
That I have worn a visor, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady
Such as would please;
You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play.
A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it, girls.
 [_Music plays, and they dance._]
More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Ah sirrah, this unlook
d-for sport comes well.
Nay sit, nay sit, good cousin Capulet,
For you and I are past our dancing days;
t now since last yourself and I
r Lady, thirty years.
Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty years; and then we mask
tis more, his son is elder, sir;
Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years ago.
What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
er her fellows shows.
ll watch her place of stand,
And touching hers, make blesM
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
er saw true beauty till this night.
This by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave
d with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
Why how now, kinsman!
Wherefore storm you so?
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain that is hither come inM
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Tis he, that villain Romeo.
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
A bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-govern
I would not for the wealth of all the town
Here in my house do him disparagement.
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
It is my will; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
It fits when such a villain is a guest:
What, goodman boy! I say he shall, go to;
Am I the master here, or you? Go to.
ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul,
ll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop, you
You are a saucy boy. Is
This trick may chance to scathe you, I M
You must contrary me! Marry,
Well said, my hearts!
You are a princox; go:
More light, more light!
ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts.
Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.
[_To Juliet._] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is thM
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims
And palm to palm is holy palmers
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do:
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.M
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers
Then move not while my prayer
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg
Give me my sin again.
You kiss by the book.
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Her mother is the lady of the house,
nd a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
d her daughter that you talk
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.
O dear account! My life is my foe
Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
en so? Why then, I thank you all;
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good nightM
More torches here! Come on then, let
Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late,
 [_Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse._]
Come hither, Nurse. What is yond gentleman?
The son and heir of old Tiberio.
s he that now is going out of door?
Marry, that I think be young Petruchio.
s he that follows here, that would not dance?
Go ask his name. If he be married,
My grave is like to be my M
His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.
My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
 [_One calls within,
s away, the strangers all are gone.
Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan
d for and would die,
With tender Juliet match
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
But to his foe suppos
s sweet bait from fearful hooks:
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
And she as much in love, her means mucM
To meet her new beloved anywhere.
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
SCENE I. An open place adjoining Capulet
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
 [_He climbs the wall and leaps down within it._]
 Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!
And on my life hath stol
He ran this way, and leap
d this orchard wall:
Call, good Mercutio.
Romeo! Humours! Madman! Passion! Lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
 Pronounce but Love and dove;
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim
When King Cophetua lov
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he movM
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rosaline
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
This cannot anger him.
To raise a spirit in his mistress
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur
That were some spite. My invocation
Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress
I conjure only but to raise up him.
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees
To be consorted with the humorous night.
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.
O Romeo, that she were, O that she were
arse and thou a poperin pear!
Romeo, good night. I
ll to my truckle-bed.
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
To seek him here that means not to be found.
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
 Juliet appears above at a window.
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!
Arise fair sun and kill the envious moM
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
ir spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.
O speak again bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name.
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
ll no longer be a Capulet.
[_Aside._] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though nM
s Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O be some other name.
s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
I take thee at thy word.
Call me but love, and I
 I never will be Romeo.
What man art thou that, thus bescreen
So stumblest on my counsel?
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee.
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words
s utterance, yet I know the sound.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.
hou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
s light wings did I o
erperch these walls,
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do, that dares love attempt:
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but M
And I am proof against their enmity.
I would not for the world they saw thee here.
s cloak to hide me from their eyes,
And but thou love me, let them find me here.
My life were better ended by their hate
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
By whose direction found
st thou out this place?
By love, that first did prompt me to enquire;
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot; yet wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash
d with the farthest sea,
I should adventure for such merchandise.
Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; but farewell compliment.
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay,
And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear
Thou mayst prove false. At lovers
They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronM
ounce it faithfully.
Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,
ll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo. But else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou mayst think my
But trust me, gentleman, I
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard
My true-love passion; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yM
ielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,
O swear not by the moon, th
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
What shall I swear by?
Do not swear at all.
Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,
Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract tonight;
It is too rash, too unadvis
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere one can say It lightens. Sweet, good night.
This bud of love, by summer
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night. As sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast.
O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
What satisfaction canM
st thou have tonight?
exchange of thy love
s faithful vow for mine.
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;
And yet I would it were to give again.
st thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?
But to be frank and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have;
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu.
Sweet Montague be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.
O blessed, blessed night. I am afeard,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering sweet to be substantial.
 Enter Juliet above.
Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow,
ll procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite,
 my fortunes at thy foot I
And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
 But if thou meanest not well,
To cease thy strife and leave me to my grief.
Tomorrow will I send.
A thousand times good night.
A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
Love goes toward love as schoolboys from theirM
But love from love, towards school with heavy looks.
 [_Retiring slowly._]
 Re-enter Juliet, above.
Hist! Romeo, hist! O for a falconer
To lure this tassel-gentle back again.
Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud,
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
With repetition of my Romeo
It is my soul that calls upon my name.
How silver-sweet sound lovers
Like softest music to attendM
Shall I send to thee?
By the hour of nine.
Tis twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Let me stand here till thou remember it.
I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Remembering how I love thy company.
ll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
g; I would have thee gone,
And yet no farther than a wanton
That lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
I would I were thy bird.
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy M
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.
d morn smiles on the frowning night,
Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light;
And darkness fleckled like a drunkard reels
s pathway, made by Titan
Hence will I to my ghostly Sire
His help to crave and my dear hap to tell.
SCENE III. Friar Lawrence
 Enter Friar Lawrence with a basket.
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
I must upfill this osier cage of ours
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
s mother, is her tomb;
What is her burying grave, that is her womb:
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find.
Many for many virtues excellent,
None but for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities.
For naught so vile that on the earth doth liM
But to the earth some special good doth give;
Nor aught so good but, strain
d from that fair use,
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
Virtue itself turns vice being misapplied,
s by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this weak flower
Poison hath residence, and medicine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed kings encamp them still
In man as well as herbs,
grace and rude will;
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
Good morrow, father.
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
Young son, it argues a distemper
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.
Care keeps his watch in every old man
And where care lodges sleep will never lie;
But where unbruised youth with unstuff
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.
Therefore thy earliness doM
d with some distemperature;
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.
That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
God pardon sin. Wast thou with Rosaline?
With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No.
I have forgot that name, and that name
s my good son. But where hast thou been then?
ll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.
I have been feasting with mine eneM
Where on a sudden one hath wounded me
s by me wounded. Both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies.
I bear no hatred, blessed man; for lo,
My intercession likewise steads my foe.
Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Then plainly know my heart
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet.
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
d, save what thou must combine
riage. When, and where, and how
d, and made exchange of vow,
ll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us today.
Holy Saint Francis! What a change is here!
Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,
So soon forsaken? Young men
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
d thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love, that of it doM
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans yet ring in mine ancient ears.
Lo here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash
If ere thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline,
d? Pronounce this sentence then,
Women may fall, when there
s no strength in men.
st me oft for loving Rosaline.
For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
To lay one in, another out to have.
I pray thee chide me not, her I love now
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.
The other did not so.
Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.
But come young waverer, come go with me,
ll thy assistant be;
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households
 rancour to pure love.
O let us hence; I stand onM
Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
 Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?
s; I spoke with his man.
Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so
that he will sure run mad.
Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his father
Romeo will answer it.
Any man that can write may answer a letter.
Nay, he will answer the letter
s master, how he dares, being dared.
Alas poor Romeo, he is already dead, stabbed with a white wench
eye; run through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart
cleft with the blind bow-boy
s butt-shaft. And is he a man to encounter
Why, what is Tybalt?
More than Prince of cats. O, he
 the courageous captain of
compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance,
and proportion. He rests his minim rest, one, two, and the third in
your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist;
a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah,
the immortal passado, the punto reverso, the hay.
The pox of such antic lisping, affecting phantasies; these new tuners
of accent. By Jesu, a very good blade, a very talM
whore. Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should
be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers,
s, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot
sit at ease on the old bench? O their bones, their bones!
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!
Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou
fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura, to
y, was but a kitchen wench,
marry, she had a better love to
berhyme her: Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gypsy; Helen and Hero hildings
and harlots; Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
Romeo, bonjour! There
s a French salutation to your French slop. You
gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
The slip sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great, and in such a M
mine a man may strain courtesy.
s as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow
Thou hast most kindly hit it.
A most courteous exposition.
Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Why, then is my pump well flowered.
Sure wit, follow me this jest now, till thou hast worn out thy pump,
that when the single sole of it M
is worn, the jest may remain after the
wearing, solely singular.
O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!
Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I
Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done. For thou hast
more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits, than I am sure, I have in my
whole five. Was I with you there for the goose?
Thou wast never with me for anything, whenM
 thou wast not there for the
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Nay, good goose, bite not.
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce.
And is it not then well served in to a sweet goose?
s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an
I stretch it out for that word broad, which added to the goose, proves
thee far and wide a broad goose.
Why, is not this betterM
 now than groaning for love? Now art thou
sociable, now art thou Romeo; not art thou what thou art, by art as
well as by nature. For this drivelling love is like a great natural,
that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
Stop there, stop there.
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short, for I was come to the
whole depth of my tale, andM
 meant indeed to occupy the argument no
 Enter Nurse and Peter.
Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the
Out upon you! What a man are you?
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.
By my troth, it is well said; for himself to mar, quoth a? Gentlemen,
can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo?
I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you have found him
than he was when you sought him. I am the youngest of that name, for
Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i
If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
She will endite him to some supper.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
What hast thou found?
No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something
stale and hoar ere it be spent.
    An old hare hoar,
    And an old hare hoar,
  Is very good meat in Lent;
    But a hare that is hoar
    Is too much for a score
  When it hoars ere it be spent.
will you come to your father
ll to dinner thither.
Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, lady, lady.
 [_Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio._]
I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his
A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak
more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
And a speak anything against me, I
ll take him down, and a were lustier
enty such Jacks. And if I cannot, I
that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of
And thou must stand by too and suffer every knave to
use me at his pleasure!
I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I had, my weapon should
quickly have been out. I warrant you, I dare draw as soon as another
man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side.
Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me quivers. Scurvy
ve. Pray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bid me
enquire you out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself. But first
let me tell ye, if ye should lead her in a fool
say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say; for the
gentlewoman is young. And therefore, if you should deal double with
her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and
ROMEO. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto
faith I will tell her as much. Lord, Lord, she will
What wilt thou tell her, Nurse? Thou dost not mark me.
I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I take it, is a
gentlemanlike offer.
Some means to come to shrift this afternoon,
And there she shall at Friar Lawrence
d and married. Here is for thy pains.
No truly, sir; not a penny.
Go to; I say you shall.
This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there.
And stay, good Nurse, behind the abbey wall.
Within this hour my man shall be with thee,
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,
Which to the high topgallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
Farewell, be trusty, and I
Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
Now God in heaven bless thee. Hark you, sir.
st thou, my dear Nurse?
Is your man secret? Did you ne
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
I warrant thee my man
Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady. Lord, Lord! When
little prating thing,
O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that
would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief see a
toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that
Paris is the properer man, but I
ll warrant you, when I say so, she
looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. DM
oth not rosemary and
Romeo begin both with a letter?
Ay, Nurse; what of that? Both with an R.
s name. R is for the
no, I know it begins
with some other letter, and she hath the prettiest sententious of it,
of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.
Commend me to thy lady.
Ay, a thousand times. Peter!
The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse,
In half an hour she promised to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him. That
O, she is lame. Love
s heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glides than the sun
Driving back shadows over lowering hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
s journey, and from nine till twelve
s, yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
d be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
 Enter Nurse and Peter.
O God, she comes. O honey Nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Peter, stay at the gate.
Now, good sweet Nurse,
, yet tell them merrily;
st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
I am aweary, give me leave awhile;
Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had!
I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
Nay come, I pray thee speak; good, good Nurse, speak.
Jesu, what haste? Can you not stay a while? Do you not see that I am
How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breM
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that;
ll stay the circumstance.
Let me be satisfied, is
Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man.
Romeo? No, not he. Though his face be better than any man
s, and for a hand and a foot, and a body, though
they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare. He is not theM
flower of courtesy, but I
ll warrant him as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
ways, wench, serve God. What, have you dined at home?
No, no. But all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? What of that?
Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my death with jauncing up and down.
faith, I am sorry that thou art not welM
Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Your love says like an honest gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,
And I warrant a virtuous,
Where is your mother?
Where is my mother? Why, she is within.
Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest.
Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
Where is your mother?
Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow.
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward do your M
s such a coil. Come, what says Romeo?
Have you got leave to go to shrift today?
Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence
There stays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
ll be in scarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church. I must another way,
To fetch a ladder by the which your love
s nest soon when it is dark.
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
ll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.
SCENE VI. Friar Lawrence
 Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.
So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not.
Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy worM
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine.
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
er wear out the everlasting flinM
A lover may bestride the gossamers
That idles in the wanton summer air
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
d like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Conceit more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess,
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
Come, come with me, and we will make short work,
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one.
SCENE I. A public Place.
 Enter Mercutio, BenvolM
io, Page and Servants.
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl,
For now these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters the confines of
a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says
 and by the operation of the second cup draws him on the
drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as
soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would
kill the other. Thou? Why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a
hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel
with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou
hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye wouM
ld spy out such a quarrel?
Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy
head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast
quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath
wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall
out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with
another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? And yet thou wilt
tutor me from quarrelling!
And I were so apt to quarrel as thM
ou art, any man should buy the fee
simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
The fee simple! O simple!
 Enter Tybalt and others.
By my head, here comes the Capulets.
By my heel, I care not.
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good-den: a word with one of you.
And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, and you will give me
Could you not take some occasion without giving?
Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.
Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? And thou make minstrels of
us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here
s my fiddlestick, here
that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!
We talk here in the public haunt of men.
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
s eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
I will not budge for no man
Well, peace be with you, sir, here comes my man.
ll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.
Marry, go before to field, he
ll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him man.
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this: Thou art a villain.
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaM
To such a greeting. Villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I see thou know
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me, therefore turn and draw.
I do protest I never injur
But love thee better than thou canst devise
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.
And so good Capulet, which name I tender
As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
[_Draws._] Alla stoccata carries it away.
ybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
What wouldst thou have with me?
Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I mean to
make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest
of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears?
Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.
[_Drawing._] I am for you.
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Come, sir, your passado.
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage,
Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
 [_Exeunt Tybalt with his Partizans._]
 both your houses. I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
What, art thou hurt?
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry,
Where is my page? Go villain, fetch a surgeon.
Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but
twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a
grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o
your houses. Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to
death. A braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your
Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague o
They have made worms
I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!
 [_Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio._]
This gentleman, the Prince
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain
Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my cousin. O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soften
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio
That gallant spirit hath aspir
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
s black fate on mo days doth depend;
This but begins the woe others must end.
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Again in triumph, and Mercutio slain?
Away to heaven respective lenity,
d fury be my conduct now!
Now, Tybalt, take the
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company.
Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
This shall determine that.
 [_They fight; Tybalt falls._]
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
d. The Prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!M
Which way ran he that kill
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
There lies that Tybalt.
Up, sir, go with me.
I charge thee in the Prince
 Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives and others.
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
O noble Prince, I can discover all
cky manage of this fatal brawl.
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother
O Prince! O husband! O, the blood is spill
Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, aM
Your high displeasure. All this uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,
Hold, friends! Friends, part!
 and swifter than his M
His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled.
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain
t they go like lightning; for, ere I
Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain;
And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
He is a kinsman to the Montague.
Affection makes him falseM
, he speaks not true.
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio.
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio
His fault concludes but what the law should end,
And for that offence
Immediately we do exile him hence.
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.
ll amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.
Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will.
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
SCENE II. A Room in Capulet
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
 lodging. Such a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
s eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how toM
 lose a winning match,
d for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.
d blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle, till strange love, grow bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.
Come, night, come Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven
Come gentle night, come loving black-brow
Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heM
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
d it; and though I am sold,
d. So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them. O, here comes my Nurse,
And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks
s name speaks heavenly eloquence.
 Enter Nurse, with cords.
Now, Nurse, what news? What haM
The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?
 [_Throws them down._]
Ay me, what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands?
We are undone, lady, we are undone.
Can heaven be so envious?
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo.
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
What devil art thou, that dost tormenM
This torture should be roar
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but Ay,
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
I am not I if there be such an I;
Or those eyes shut that make thee answer Ay.
If he be slain, say Ay; or if not, No.
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,
here on his manly breast.
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, allM
All in gore-blood. I swounded at the sight.
O, break, my heart. Poor bankrout, break at once.
Vile earth to earth resign; end motion here,
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier.
O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had.
O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead.
What storm is this that blows so contrary?
d and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest cousin, and my M
Then dreadful trumpet sound the general doom,
For who is living, if those two are gone?
Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished,
d him, he is banished.
It did, it did; alas the day, it did.
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical,
d raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
ust opposite to what thou justly seem
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace.
No faith, no honesty in men. All perjur
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
s my man? Give me some aqua vitae.
These griefs, these woM
es, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo.
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow shame is asham
tis a throne where honour may be crown
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Will you speak well of him that kill
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
When I thy three-hours
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have kill
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring,
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you mistaking offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain,
s dead, that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt
d me. I would forget it fain,
But O, it presses to my memory
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt
Was woe enough, if it had ended there.
Or if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank
d with other griefs,
d not, when she said Tybalt
Thy father or thy mother, nay or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov
But with a rear-ward following Tybalt
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. Romeo is banished,
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
s death, no words can that woe sound.
Where is my father and my mother, Nurse?
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
Wash they his wounds with tears. Mine shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil
Both you and I; for Romeo is exil
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come cords, come Nurse, I
ll to my wedding bed,
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead.
Hie to your chamber. I
To comfort you. I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
ll to him, he is hid at Lawrence
O find him, give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.
 III. Friar Lawrence
 Enter Friar Lawrence.
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enanmour
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Father, what news? What is the Prince
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?
Is my dear son with such sour company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince
What less than doomsday is the Prince
A gentler judgment vanish
Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say death;
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say banishment.
Hence from Verona art thou banished.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish
d. Calling death banished,
st my head off with a golden axe,
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
O deadly sin, O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath brush
d that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou see
Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog,
le mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.
But Romeo may not, he is banished.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly.
They are free men but I am banished.
hat exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix
d, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne
But banished to kill me? Banished?
O Friar, the damned use that word in hell.
Howlings attends it. How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess
To mangle me with that word banished?
Thou fond mad man, hear me speak a little,
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
e thee armour to keep off that word,
s sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Yet banished? Hang up philosophy.
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a Prince
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.
O, then I see that mad men have no ears.
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Thou canst not speak of that thouM
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
 [_Knocking within._]
Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
Not I, unless the breath of heartsick groans
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.
What simpleness is this.
Who knocks so hard? Whence come you, what
[_Within._] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand.
I come from Lady Juliet.
O holy Friar, O, tell me, holy Friar,
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
O, he is even in my mistress
Just in her case! O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament. Even so lies she,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man.
s sake, for her sake, rise and stand.
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
Ah sir, ah sir, death
Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
he think me an old murderer,
d the childhood of our joy
d but little from her own?
Where is she? And how doth she? And what says
d lady to our cancell
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her, as that name
 kinsman. O, tell me, Friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion.
 [_Drawing his sword._]
Hold thy desperate hand.
Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art.
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man,
And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
d me. By my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper
 Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady, that in thy life lives,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
st thou on thy birth, the heaven and earth?
Since birth, and heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
st thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
Which, like a usurer, abound
And usest none in that true use indeed
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
the valour of a man;
Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier
Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
d with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man. Thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
st Tybalt; there art thou happyM
The law that threaten
d death becomes thy friend,
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But like a misshaped and sullen wench,
st up thy Fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get thee to thy love as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
Where thou shalt live till wM
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
st forth in lamentation.
Go before, Nurse. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
O Lord, I could have stay
d here all the night
To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!
ll tell my lady you will come.
my sweet prepare to chide.
Here sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir.
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
How well my comfort is reviv
Go hence, good night, and here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis
Sojourn in Mantua. I
ll find out your man,
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here.
But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief so brief to part with thee.
SCENE IV. A Room in Capulet
 Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet and Paris.
Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had no time to move our daughter.
d her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I. Well, we were born to die.
ll not come down tonight.
I promise you, but for your company,
 have been abed an hour ago.
These times of woe afford no tune to woo.
Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
I will, and know her mind early tomorrow;
d up to her heaviness.
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
s love. I think she will be rul
In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed,
Acquaint her here of my son Paris
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday nexM
But, soft, what day is this?
Monday! Ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
A Thursday let it be; a Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? Do you like this haste?
ll keep no great ado,
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much.
ll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to ThursdayM
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then.
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day.
Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me, it is so very very late that we
May call it early by and by. Good night.
SCENE V. An open Gallery to Juliet
s Chamber, overlooking the Garden.
 Enter Romeo and Juliet.
Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.
tingale, and not the lark,
d the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
s candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I.
It is some meteor tM
To be to thee this night a torchbearer
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Therefore stay yet, thou need
en, let me be put to death,
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
ll say yon grey is not the morning
Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia
Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Come, death, and welcome. Juliet wills it soM
s talk. It is not day.
It is, it is! Hie hence, be gone, away.
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division;
This doth not so, for she divideth us.
Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes.
O, now I would they had chang
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
More light and light, more dark and dark our woes.
Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.
The day is broke, be wary, look about.
Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
Farewell, farewell, one kiss, and I
Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay husband, friend,
I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
For in a minute there are many days.
 I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo.
I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
O thinkest thou we shall ever meet again?
I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
O God! I have an ill-divining soul!
Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Either my eyesight fails, or thou look
And trust me, love, in M
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu.
O Fortune, Fortune! All men call thee fickle,
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
d for faith? Be fickle, Fortune;
For then, I hope thou wilt not keep him long
[_Within._] Ho, daughter, are you up?
t that calls? Is it my lady mother?
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
d cause procures her hither?
Why, how now, Juliet?
Madam, I am not well.
Evermore weeping for your cousin
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
And if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live.
Therefore have done: some grief shows much of love,
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
Well, girl, thou weep
st not so much for his death
As that the villain lives which slaughter
What villain, madam?
That same villain Romeo.
Villain and he be many miles asunder.
God pardon him. I do, with all my heart.
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
That is because the traitor murderer lives.
Ay madam, from the reach of these my hands.
I might venge my cousin
We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not.
Then weep no more. I
ll send to one in Mantua,
Where that same banish
d runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccustom
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
Indeed I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo till I behold him
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would M
That Romeo should upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
d, and cannot come to him,
To wreak the love I bore my cousin
Upon his body that hath slaughter
Find thou the means, and I
ll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
And joy comes well in such a needy time.
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
One who to put thee frM
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expects not, nor I look
Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at Saint Peter
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
s Church, and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste, that I must wed
Ere he that should be husM
I pray you tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. These are news indeed.
Here comes your father, tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your hands.
 Enter Capulet and Nurse.
When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
But for the sunset of my brother
How now? A conduit, girl? What, still in tears?
? In one little body
Thou counterfeits a bark, a sea, a wind.
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this salt flood, the winds, thy sighs,
Who raging with thy tears and they with them,
Without a sudden calm will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife?
d to her our decree?
Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave.
h you, take me with you, wife.
How, will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Not proud you have, but thankful that you have.
Proud can I never be of what I hate;
But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
How now, how now, chopp
d logic? What is this?
Proud, and, I thank you, and I thank you not;
And yet not proud. Mistress minion you,
me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But fettle your fine joints
gainst Thursday next
To go with Paris to Saint Peter
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage!
Fie, fie! What, are you mad?
Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch!
get thee to church a Thursday,
look me in the face.
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me.
My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her.
Out on her, hilding.
God in heaven bless her.
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
And why, my lady wisdom? Hold your tongue,
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
Peace, you mumbling fool!
Utter your gravity o
For here we need it not.
s bread, it makes me mad!
Day, night, hour, ride, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
d, and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly allied,
d, as they say, with honourable parts,
s thought would wish a manM
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune
ll not wed, I cannot love,
I am too young, I pray you pardon me.
But, and you will not wed, I
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me.
t, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise.
ll give you to my friend;
And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good.
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O sweet my mother, cast me not away,
Delay this marriage for a month, a week,
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
Talk not to me, for I
ll not speak a word.
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
how shall this be prevented?
My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven.
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that husband send it me from heaven
By leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me.
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as myself.
st thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, Nurse.
Romeo is banished; and all the world to nothing
er come back to challenge you.
Or if he do, it needs M
Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the County.
s a lovely gentleman.
s a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you are happy in this second match,
For it excels your first: or if it did not,
Your first is dead, or
twere as good he were,
As living here and you no use of him.
Speakest thou from thy heart?
Or else beshrew them both.
Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
d my father, to Lawrence
To make confession and to be absolv
Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.
Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais
d him with above compare
o many thousand times? Go, counsellor.
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
ll to the Friar to know his remedy.
If all else fail, myself have power to die.
SCENE I. Friar Lawrence
 Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.
On Thursday, sir? The time is very short.
My father Capulet will have it so;
And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
You say you do not know the lady
Uneven is the course; I like it nM
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt
And therefore have I little talk
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
That she do give her sorrow so much sway;
And in his wisdom, hastes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears,
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society.
Now do you know the reason of this haste.
[_Aside._] I would I knew not why it should be slow
ir, here comes the lady toward my cell.
Happily met, my lady and my wife!
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
That may be, must be, love, on Thursday next.
What must be shall be.
Come you to make confession to this father?
To answer that, I should confess to you.
Do not deny to him that you love me.
I will confess to you that I love him.
, I am sure, that you love me.
If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back than to your face.
Poor soul, thy face is much abus
The tears have got small victory by that;
For it was bad enough before their spite.
st it more than tears with that report.
That is no slander, sir, which is a truth,
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander
t may be so, for it is not mine own.
Are you at leisure, holy father, now,
Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
God shield I should disturb devotion!
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye,
Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
O shut the door, and when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help!
 I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits.
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this County.
Tell me not, Friar, that thou hear
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.
If in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I
ll help it presently.
d my heart and Romeo
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc
Give me some present counsel, or behold
Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the empire, arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak. I long to die,
st speak not of remedy.
Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope,
h craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
st with death himself to scape from it.
ll give thee remedy.
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower,
Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk
Where serpents are. Chain mM
e with roaring bears;
Or hide me nightly in a charnel-house,
d quite with dead men
With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls.
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble,
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
d wife to my sweet love.
Hold then. Go home, be merry, give consent
To marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow;
Tomorrow night look that M
Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber.
Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off,
When presently through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress, but surcease.
No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest,
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes; thy eyes
Like death when he shuts up the day of life.
d of supple government,
ff and stark and cold appear like death.
d likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.
Then as the manner of our country is,
In thy best robes, uncover
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the meantime, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters knM
And hither shall he come, and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear
Abate thy valour in the acting it.
Give me, give me! O tell not me of fear!
Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
ll send a friar with speed
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
Love give me strength, and strengthM
Farewell, dear father.
SCENE II. Hall in Capulet
 Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse and Servants.
So many guests invite as here are writ.
 [_Exit first Servant._]
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
You shall have none ill, sir; for I
ll try if they can lick their
How canst thou try them so?
tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers;
 cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.
 [_Exit second Servant._]
We shall be much unfurnish
What, is my daughter gone to Friar Lawrence?
Well, he may chance to do some good on her.
See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
How now, my headstrong. Where have you been gadding?
Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
To you and your behests; and am enjoin
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you.
Henceforward I am ever rul
Send for the County, go tell him of this.
ll have this knot knit up tomorrow morning.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence
And gave him what becomed love I might,
er the bounds of modesty.
t. This is well. Stand up.
. Let me see the County.
Ay, marry. Go, I say, and fetch him hither.
Now afore God, this reverend holy Friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him.
Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me tomorrow?
No, not till Thursday. There is time enough.
Go, Nurse, go with her. We
ll to church tomorrow.
 [_Exeunt Juliet and Nurse._]
We shall be short in our provision,
Tush, I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her.
ll not to bed tonight, let me alone.
ll play the housewife for this once.
They are all forth: well, I will walk myself
To County Paris, to prepare him up
Against tomorrow. My heart is wondrous light
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim
 Enter Juliet and Nurse.
tires are best. But, gentle Nurse,
I pray thee leave me to myself tonight;
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know
st, is cross and full of sin.
 Enter Lady Capulet.
What, are you busy, ho? Need you my help?
No, madam; we have cull
As are behoveful for our state tomorrow.
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night sit up with you,
For I am sure you have your hands fullM
In this so sudden business.
Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need.
 [_Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse._]
Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
That almost freezes up the heat of life.
ll call them back again to comfort me.
What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?
No, No! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there.
 [_Laying down her dagger._]
What if it be a poison, which the Friar
Subtly hath minister
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it is. And yet methinks it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man.
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? There
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
ul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where for this many hundred years the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
 waking, what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad.
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears,
And madly play with my forefathers
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O look, methinks I see my cousin
Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body
t. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here
s drink! I drink to thee.
 [_Throws herself on the bed._]
SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet
 Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.
Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, Nurse.
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crow
The curfew bell hath rung,
d meats, good Angelica;
Go, you cot-quean, go,
Get you to bed; faith, you
No, not a whit. What! I have watch
All night for lesser cause, and ne
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
But I will watch you from such watching now.
 [_Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse._]
A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood!
 Enter Servants, with spits, logs and baskets.
ings for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
Make haste, make haste.
 [_Exit First Servant._]
Sirrah, fetch drier logs.
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs
And never trouble Peter for the matter.
Mass and well said; a merry whoreson, ha.
Thou shalt be loggerhead.
The County will be here with music straight,
For so he said he would. I hear him near.
Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, Nurse, I say!
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up.
ll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,
Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already.
s Chamber; Juliet on the bed.
Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she.
Why, lamb, why, lady, fie, you slug-abed!
Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Why, bride!
What, not a word? You take your pennyworths M
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his rest
That you shall rest but little. God forgive me!
Marry and amen. How sound is she asleep!
I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the County take you in your bed,
faith. Will it not be?
d, and in your clothes, and down again?
I must needs wake you. Lady! Lady! Lady!
Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady
O, well-a-day that ever I was born.
Some aqua vitae, hoM
 Enter Lady Capulet.
Look, look! O heavy day!
O me, O me! My child, my only life.
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee.
Help, help! Call help.
For shame, bring Juliet forth, her lord is come.
s dead; alack the day!
Ha! Let me see her. Out alas! She
Her blood is settled and her joints are stiff.
Life and these lips have long been separated.
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.
 Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris with Musicians.
Come, is the bride ready to go M
Ready to go, but never to return.
O son, the night before thy wedding day
Hath death lain with thy bride. There she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;
My daughter he hath wedded. I will die.
And leave him all; life, living, all is death
Have I thought long to see this morning
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day.
Most miserable hour that e
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage.
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch
O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day.
Most lamentable day, most woeful day
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
O day, O day, O day, O hateful day.
Never was seen so black a day as this.
O woeful day, O woeful day.
d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain.
Most detestable death, by thee beguil
cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown.
O love! O life! Not life, but love in death!
d, distressed, hated, martyr
Uncomfortable time, why cam
To murder, murder our solemnity?
O child! O child! My soul, and not my child,
Dead art thou. Alack, my child is dead,
And with my child my joys are buried.
Peace, ho, for shame. Confusion
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid, now heaven hath all,
ll the better is it for the maid.
Your part in her you could not keep from death,
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion,
twas your heaven she should be advanc
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill
That you run mad, seeing that she is well.
s not well married that lives married long,
s best married that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, andM
 stick your rosemary
On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
And in her best array bear her to church;
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
All things that we ordained festival
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him,
And go, Sir Paris, everyone prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
The heavens do lower upon you for some ill;
Move them no more by crossing their high will.
 [_Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris and Friar._]
Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.
Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up,
For well you know this is a pitiful case.
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Musicians, O, musicians,
will have me live, play
O musicians, because my heart itself plays
me some merry dump to comfort me.
tis no time to play now.
I will then give it you soundly.
What will you give us?M
No money, on my faith, but the gleek! I will give you the minstrel.
Then will I give you the serving-creature.
Then will I lay the serving-creature
s dagger on your pate. I will
carry no crotchets. I
ll fa you. Do you note me?
And you re us and fa us, you note us.
Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Then have at you with my wit. I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and
agger. Answer me like men.
When griping griefs the heart doth wound,
      And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
    Then music with her silver sound
music with her silver sound
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
Prates. What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
 because musicians sound for silver.
Prates too! What say you, James Soundpost?
Faith, I know not what to say.
O, I cry you mercy, you are the singer. I will say for you. It is
music with her silver sound
 because musicians have no gold for
Then music with her silver sound
      With speedy help doth lend redress.
What a pestilent knave is this same!
Hang him, Jack. Come, we
ll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay
SCENE I. Mantua. A Street.
If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.
s lord sits lightly in his throne;
And all this day an unaccustom
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead,
Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think!
d such life with kisses in my lips,
d, and was an emperor.
Ah me, how sweet is love itself possess
News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the Friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet? That I ask again;
For nothing can be ill if she be well.
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body sleeps in Capel
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred
And presently took post to tell it you.
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
e you did leave it for my office, sir.
Is it even so? Then I defy you, stars!
st my lodging. Get me ink and paper,
And hire post-horses. I will hence tonight.
I do beseech you sir, have patience.
Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
Tush, thou art deceiv
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no letters to me from the Friar?
No matter. Get thee gone,
And hire those horses. M
ll be with thee straight.
 [_Exit Balthasar._]
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight.
s see for means. O mischief thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men.
I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts he dwells,
d weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples, meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
Of ill-shaped fishes; and abouM
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
d, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,
And if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but forerun my need,
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house.
Being holiday, the beggar
What, ho! Apothecary!
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
And that the trunk may be discharg
As violently as hasty powder fir
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon
Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua
ath to any he that utters them.
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
st to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back.
The world is not thy friend, nor the world
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it and take this.
My poverty, but not my will consents.
I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Put this in any liquid thing you wiM
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
There is thy gold, worse poison to men
Doing more murder in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell, buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
s grave, for there must I use thee.
SCENE II. Friar Lawrence
Holy Franciscan Friar! Brother, ho!
 Enter Friar Lawrence.
This same should be the voice of Friar John.
Welcome from Mantua. What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
Going to find a barefoot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
d up the doors, and would not lM
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay
Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
I could not send it,
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.
Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, but full of charge,
Of dear import, and the neglecting it
May do much danger. Friar John, go hence,
Get me an iron crow and bring it straight
ll go and bring it thee.
Now must I to the monument alone.
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake.
She will beshrew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents;
But I will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my cell till Romeo come.
Poor living corse, clos
SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the Capulets.
 Enter Paris, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch.
ch, boy. Hence and stand aloof.
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yond yew tree lay thee all along,
Holding thy ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,
But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hear
st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
[_Aside._] I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.
Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew.
O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
Or wanting that, with tears distill
The obsequies that I for thee will keep,
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
 [_The Page whistles._]
The boy gives warning something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way tonight,
To cross my obsequies and true love
What, with a torch! Muffle me, night, awhile.
r Romeo and Balthasar with a torch, mattock, &c.
Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light; upon thy life I charge thee,
st or seest, stand all aloof
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death
Is partly to behold my lady
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring, a ring that I must use
nt. Therefore hence, be gone.
But if thou jealous dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven I will tear thee joint by joint,
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs.
The time and my intents are savage-wild;
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that.
Live, and be prosperous, and farewell, good fellow.
ll hide me hereabout.
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
d with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
 [_Breaking open the door of the monument._]
ll cram thee with more food.
It is supposed, the fair creature died,
And here is come to do some villaM
To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him.
d toil, vile Montague.
Can vengeance be pursu
d further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee.
Obey, and go with me, for thou must die.
I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man.
Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone;
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
Put not another sin upon my head
By urging me to fury. O be gone.
eaven I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither arm
Stay not, be gone, live, and hereafter say,
s mercy bid thee run away.
I do defy thy conjuration,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!
O lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
O, I am slain! [_Falls._] If thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
ill. Let me peruse this face.
s kinsman, noble County Paris!
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think
He told me Paris should have married Juliet.
Said he not so? Or did I dream it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune
ll bury thee in a triumphant grave.
A grave? O no, a lantern, slaught
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
sting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr
 [_Laying Paris in the monument._]
How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry! Which their keepers call
A lightning before death. O, how may I
Call this a lightning? O my love, my wife,
Death that hath suck
d the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquer
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
s pale flag is not advanced M
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favour can I do to thee
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin. Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that I still will stay with thee,
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again. Here, here will I remain
at are thy chambermaids. O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last.
Arms, take your last embrace! And, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death.
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide.
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark.
s to my love! [_Drinks._] O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with M
 Enter, at the other end of the Churchyard, Friar Lawrence, with a
 lantern, crow, and spade.
Saint Francis be my speed. How oft tonight
Have my old feet stumbled at graves? Who
Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?
s one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
Bliss be upon you. Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern,
It doth so, holy sir, and there
How long hath he been there?
Go with me to the vault.
My master knows not but I am gone hence,
And fearfully did menace me with death
If I did stay to look on his intents.
ll go alone. Fear comes upon me.
ch I fear some ill unlucky thing.
As I did sleep under this yew tree here,
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him.
Romeo! [_Advances._]
Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
What mean these masterless and gory swords
d by this place of peace?
 [_Enters the monument._]
Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too?
d in blood? Ah what an unkind hour
Is guilty of this lM
 [_Juliet wakes and stirs._]
O comfortable Friar, where is my lord?
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am. Where is my Romeo?
I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep.
A greater power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
And Paris too. Come, I
Among a sisterhood of hM
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.
Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay.
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
 [_Exit Friar Lawrence._]
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.
O churl. Drink all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
hin._] Lead, boy. Which way?
ll be brief. O happy dagger.
This is thy sheath. [_stabs herself_] There rest, and let me die.
 Enter Watch with the Page of Paris.
This is the place. There, where the torch doth burn.
The ground is bloody. Search about the churchyard.
Go, some of you, whoe
 [_Exeunt some of the Watch._]
Pitiful sight! Here lies the M
And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain this two days buried.
Go tell the Prince; run to the Capulets.
Raise up the Montagues, some others search.
 [_Exeunt others of the Watch._]
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie,
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.
 Re-enter some of the Watch with Balthasar.
s man. We found him in the churchyard.
Hold him in safety till M
the Prince come hither.
 Re-enter others of the Watch with Friar Lawrence.
THIRD WATCH. Here is a Friar that trembles, sighs, and weeps.
We took this mattock and this spade from him
As he was coming from this churchyard side.
A great suspicion. Stay the Friar too.
 Enter the Prince and Attendants.
What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning
 Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet and others.
What should it be that they so shriek abM
O the people in the street cry Romeo,
Some Juliet, and some Paris, and all run
With open outcry toward our monument.
What fear is this which startles in our ears?
Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain,
And Romeo dead, and Juliet, dead before,
Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
Here is a Friar, and slaughter
With instruments upon them fit to open
O heaven! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mista
en, for lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Montague,
And it mis-sheathed in my daughter
O me! This sight of death is as a bell
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
 Enter Montague and others.
Come, Montague, for thou art early up,
To see thy son and heir more early down.
Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight.
What further woe conspires against mine age?
Look, and thou shalt see.
O thou untaught! What manners is in this,
To press before thy father to a grave?
Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their true descent,
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death. Meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murder.
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet,
And she, there dead, that Romeo
I married them; and their stol
s doomsday, whose untimely death
d the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
d, and would have married her perforce
To County Paris. Then comes she to me,
And with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutored by my art,
A sleeping potion, which so took effect
As I intended, for iM
The form of death. Meantime I writ to Romeo
That he should hither come as this dire night
To help to take her from her borrow
Being the time the potion
s force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
d by accident; and yesternight
d my letter back. Then all alone
At the prefixed hour of her waking
Came I to take her from her kindred
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo.
some minute ere the time
Of her awaking, here untimely lay
The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth
And bear this work of heaven with patience.
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her Nurse is privy. And if ought in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
d, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigour of severest laM
We still have known thee for a holy man.
s man? What can he say to this?
I brought my master news of Juliet
And then in post he came from Mantua
To this same place, to this same monument.
This letter he early bid me give his father,
d me with death, going in the vault,
If I departed not, and left him there.
Give me the letter, I will look on it.
Sirrah, what made your mM
aster in this place?
He came with flowers to strew his lady
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did.
Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb,
And by and by my master drew on him,
And then I ran away to call the watch.
This letter doth make good the Friar
Their course of love, the tidings of her death.
And here he writes that he did buy a poison
pothecary, and therewithal
Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
Where be these enemies? Capulet, M
See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish
O brother Montague, give me thy hand.
s jointure, for no more
But I can give thee more,
For I will raise her statue in pure gold,
That whiles Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at such rate be set
As that of true and faithful Juliet.M
Poor sacrifices of our enmity.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun for sorrow will not show his head.
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.
Some shall be pardon
d, and some punished,
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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Copyright (c) 1998 Hewlett-Packard Company
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by William Shakespeare
  ALONSO, King of Naples.
  SEBASTIAN, his brother.
  PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan.
  ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.
  FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples.
  GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor.
  CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.
  TRINCULO, a Jester.
  STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.
  MIRANDA, daughter to Prospero.
  IRIS, presented by Spirits.
  Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
SCENE--A ship at sea: an uninhabited island.
SCENE I. On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder
and lightning heard.
  Enter a Ship-Master and a Boatswain.
Boats. Here, master: what cheer?
Mast. Good, speak to the mariners: fall to
we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.    [Exit.]
Boats. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master
whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
  Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO,
Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where
Boats. I pray now, keep below.
Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?
Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:
keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Gon. Nay, good, be patient.
Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What cares these
roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble
Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a
Counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence,
and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope
more; use your authorM
ity: if you cannot, give thanks you
have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin
for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good
hearts! Out of our way, I say.    [Exit.]
Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks
he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging:
make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth
little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case
is miserable.    [Exeunt.]
  Re-enter Boatswain.
Boats. Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower!
Bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within.] A
plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather
or our office.
  Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO.
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o
drown? Have you a mind to sink?
 your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
ou, then.
Ant. Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker.
We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship
were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched
wench.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off
to sea again; lay her off.
  Enter Mariners wet.
Mariners. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all loM
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?
Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let
s assist them,
For our case is as theirs.
Seb.                   I
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
d rascal,--would thou mightst lie drowning
The washing of ten tides!
Gon.                  He
Though every drop of water swear against it,
And gape at widest to glut him.
  [A confused noise withM
Farewell my wife and children!
We split, we split, we split!
s all sink with the king.
s take leave of him. [Exeunt Ant. and Seb.]
Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for
an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a
dry death.    [Exeunt.]                                   M
SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO
  Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.
Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer
d
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
d all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
my very heart! Poor souls, they perish
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow
The fraughting souls within her.
Pros.                        Be collected:
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
Mir.              O, woe the day!
Pros.                           No harm.
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
ar one, thee, my daughter, who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
Mir.                   More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pros.
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me. --So:
                                [Lays down his mantle.]
Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thinM
e eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
d, that there is no soul,
No, not so much perdition as an hair
Betid to any creature in the vessel
st cry, which thou saw
For thou must now know farther.
Mir.                        You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp
 to a bootless inquisition,
Pros.                The hour
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.
Mir.             Certainly, sir, I can.
Pros. By what? by any other house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mir.
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?
Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
st ought ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.
Mir.                         But that I do not.
ve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
Mir.           Sir, are not you my father?
Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was Duke of Milan; and his only heir
And princess, no worse issued.
Mir.                       O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Pros.                Both, both, my gM
By foul play, as thou say
st, were we heaved thence;
But blessedly holp hither.
Mir.                   O, my heart bleeds
 the teen that I have turn
Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
Pros. My brother, and thy uncle, call
I pray thee, mark me,--that a brother should
Be so perfidious!--he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I loved, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
gh all the signories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--
Dost thou attend me?
Mir.             Sir, most heedfully.
Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, whom to advance, and whom                         M
To trash for over-topping, new created
The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed
em; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i
To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
Mir. O, good sir, I do.
Pros.                 I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the betteM
ring of my mind
With that which, but by being so retired,
er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary, as great
As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact, like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it,               M
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the duke; out o
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:--hence his ambition growing,--
Mir.        Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pros. To have no screen between this part he play
d it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties      M
He thinks me now incapable; confederates,
So dry he was for sway, wi
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow
d,--alas, poor Milan!--
To most ignoble stooping.
Mir.                  O the heavens!
Pros. Mark his condition, and th
 event; then tell me
If this might be a brother.
Mir.                    I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Pros.                       Now the condition.
This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother
Which was, that he, in lieu o
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
 the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
Mir.                Alack, for pity!
I, not remembering how I cried out then,
er again: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to
Pros.                   Hear a little further,
ll bring thee to the present business
s; without the which, this story
Were most impertinent.
Mir.               Wherefore did they nM
That hour destroy us?
Pros.             Well demanded, wench:
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
So dear the love my people bore me; nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it: there they hoist us,
 to the sea that roar
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
Mir.                 Alack, what trouble
Pros.          O, a cherubin
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
d the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burthen groan
d; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
          How came we ashore?
Pros. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity, who being then appointed
Master of this design, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Mir.                  Would I might
t ever see that man!
Pros.              Now I arise:  [Resumes his mantle.]
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princesses can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mir. Heavens thank you for
t! And now, I pray you, sir,
tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
Pros.                   Know thus M
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclined to sleep;
tis a good dulness,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
                                        [Miranda sleeps.]
y, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure; be
t to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
d clouds, to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality.
Pros.                  Hast thou, spirit,
d to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement: sometime I
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove
s lightnings, the precursors
 the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident sM
Pros.                     My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
Ari.                     Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me: the king
With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--
Was the first man that leap
And all the devils areM
Pros.                 Why, that
s my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Ari.                    Close by, my master.
Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari.                           Not a hair perish
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed them
bout the isle.
s son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
e of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
Pros.                  Of the king
The mariners, say how thou hast disposed,
Ari.                       Safely in harbour
s ship; in the deep nook, where once
dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
d Bermoothes, there she
The mariners all under hatches stow
d;
Who, with a charm join
I have left asleep: and for the rest o
Which I dispersed, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples;
Supposing that they saw the king
And his great person perish.
Pros.                    Ariel, thy charge
Ari.                     Past the mid season.
Pros. At least two glasses. The tM
twixt six and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet perform
Pros.                      How now? moody?
t thou canst demand?
Ari.                     My liberty.
Pros. Before the time be out? no more!
Ari.                                 I prithee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
 made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
To bate me a full year.
Pros.               Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
Ari.                             No.
Pros. Thou dost; and think
st it much to tread the ooze
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o
 the earth
When it is baked with frost.
Ari.                     I do not, sM
Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Pros.       Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Pros.              O, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,                             M
d: for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Pros. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
st thyself, wast then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
 most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
d thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--
Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour
Ari.       Yes, Caliban her son.
Pros. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. ThouM
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment
To lay upon the damn
d, which Sycorax
Could not again undo: it was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
Ari.                    I thank thee, master.
Pros. If thou more murmur
st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
d away twelve winters.
Ari.                              Pardon, master:
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spiriting gently.
Pros.                   Do so; and after two days
I will discharge thee.
Ari.               That
What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o
Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,
, hence with diligence!
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Mir. The strangeness of your story put
Pros.        Shake it off. Come on;
ll visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
I do not love to look on.
Pros.                 But, as
tis,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.
s wood enough within.
Pros. Come forth, I say! there
s other business for thee:
Come, thou tortoise! when?
  Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph.
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Ari.           My lord, it shall be done.    [Exit.]
Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
s feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye
And blister you all o
Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made
Cal.                 I must eat my dinner.                 M
s mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst give me
Water with berries in
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,
d thee all the qualities o
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
d be I that did so! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, lM
ight on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
Pros.               Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.
Cal. O ho, O ho! would
Thou didst prevent me; I hM
ad peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Pros.                Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!
Pros.                      Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou
To answer other business. Shrug
st, or dost unwillingly
ll rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
Cal.                              No, pray thee.
[Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam
And make a vassal of him.
Pros.                 So, slave; hence!    [Exit Caliban.]
  Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND
    Come unto these yellow sands,                M
        And then take hands:
    Courtsied when you have and kiss
        The wild waves whist:
    Foot it featly here and there;
    And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
 Burthen [dispersedly]. Hark, hark!
                           Bow-wow.
        The watch-dogs bark:
                            Bow-wow.
Ari.  Hark, hark! I hear
        The strain of strutting chanticleer
        Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon
 island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father
s wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air: thence I have follow
Or it hath drawn me rather. But
No, it begins again.
    Full fathom five thy father lies;
     Of his bones are coral made;
    Those are pearls that were his eyes:
        Nothing of him that doth fade,
    But doth suffer a sea-change
    Into something rich and strange.
    Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
                    Burthen: Ding-dong.
Ari. Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drown
d father.
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes:--I hear it now above me.
s. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
And say what thou seest yond.
Mir.                      What is
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form. But
Pros. No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck; and, but he
s canker, thou mightst call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his felM
And strays about to find
Mir.                      I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pros. [Aside] It goes on, I see,
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I
ll free thee
Within two days for this.
Fer.                  Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here: my prime request,                M
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?
Mir.              No wonder, sir;
But certainly a maid.
Fer.              My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Pros.                     How? the best?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
And that he does I weep: myself am NapM
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck
Mir.                    Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
Pros.                      [Aside] The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
t. At the first sight
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
ll set thee free for this. [To Fer.] A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e
er I saw; the first
d for: pity move my father
To be inclined my way!
Fer.               O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I
The queen of Naples.
Pros.            Soft, sir! one word more.
[Aside] They are both in either
        but this swift business
 uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on
Fer.                No, as I am a man.
s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with
Pros.                                Follow me.M
Speak not you for him; he
s a traitor. Come;
ll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
Fer.                           No;
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.
            [Draws, and is charmed from moving.]
Mir.                O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
s gentle, and not fearful.
Pros.                     What! I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who makest a show, but darest not strike, thy conscience
d with guilt: come from thy ward;
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
Mir.                  Beseech you, father.
Pros. Hence! hang not on my garments.
Mir.                                Sir, have pity;
Pros.           Silence! one word more       M

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor! hush!
st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
Mir.                    My affections
Are, then, most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Pros.              Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in theM
Fer.             So they are:
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
s loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
Pros. [Aside]      It works. [To Fer.] Come on.
well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me.
[To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
Mir.                                     Be of comfort;
s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
Pros.                Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
Ari.                  To the syllable.
Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him.    [Exeunt.]
ENE I. Another part of the island.
  Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,
Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day, some sailor
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Alon.                    Prithee, peace.
Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The visitor will not give him o
s winding up the watch of his wit; by
and by it will strike.
Seb. One: tell.
Gon. When every grief is entertain
Comes to the entertainer--
Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken
you purposed.
Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Gon. Therefore, my lord,--
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I prithee, spare.
Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,--
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first
Ant. The cockerel.
Seb. Done. The wager?
Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,--
Seb. Ha, ha, ha!--So, you
re paid.
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,--
Ant. He could not miss
Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lM
ungs, and rotten ones.
twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.
Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green in
Ant. He misses not much.
Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
Gon. But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost
Seb. As many vouched rarities are.
Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched
in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses,
being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water.
Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it
Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when
we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king
fair daughter Claribel to theM
Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon
to their queen.
Gon. Not since widow Dido
 that! How came that widow
Seb. What if he had said
Lord, how you take it!
 said you? you make me study of
s of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Gon. I assure you, Carthage.
Seb. His word is more than the miraculous harp; he
hath raised the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?
Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his
pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
Ant. Why, in good time.
Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your
daughter, who is now queen.
Ant. And the rarest that e
Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.
Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
wore it? I mean, in a sort.
Ant. That sort was well fished for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost, and, in my rate, she too.
Who is so far from Italy removed
er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?
Fran.                   Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water.
enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o
er his wave-worn basis bow
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.
Alon.              No, no, he
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
r lose her to an African;
Where she, at least, is banish
d from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on
Alon.                             Prithee, peace.
d to, and importuned otherwise,
By all of us; and the fair soul herself
d between loathness and obedience, at
 the beam should bow. We have lost your son,
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business
Than we bring men to coM
Alon.             So is the dear
Gon. My lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,
And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.
Seb.                           Very well.
Ant. And most chirurgeonly.
Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
Seb.             Foul weather?
Ant.                      M
Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,--
Seb.                             Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king on
Scape being drunk for want of wine.
 the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, succession,    M
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too, but innocent and pure;
No sovereignty;--
Seb.      Yet he would be king on
Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
Gon. All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,                   M
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.
Seb.
Ant. Long live Gonzalo!
Gon.                  And,--do you mark me, sir?
Alon. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
Gon. I do well believe M
your highness; and did it to minister
occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible
and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.
Twas you we laughed at.
Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to
you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
Ant. What a blow was there given!
Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.
Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would
lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it
s without changing.
  Enter ARIEL (invisible) playing solemn music.
Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion
so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very
heavy?
Ant. Go sleep, and hear us.
            [All sleep except Alon., Seb., and Ant.]
Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesM
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
They are inclined to do so.
Seb.                    Please you, sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
Ant.           We two, my lord,
Will guard your person while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
Alon.              Thank you.--Wondrous heavy.
                                [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.]
Seb. What a strange drowsiness possessesM
 them!
Ant. It is the quality o
Seb.                                 Why
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.
Ant.                  Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all, as by consent;
d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian?--O, what might?--No more:--
And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee; and
My strong imagination seM
Dropping upon thy head.
Seb.                What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?
Seb.                         I do; and surely
It is a sleepy language, and thou speak
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.
Ant.                Noble Sebastian,
st thy fortune sleep--die, rather; wink
Seb.                Thou dost snore distinctly;
s meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do
Seb.           Well, I am standing water.
ll teach you how to flow.
Seb.                           Do so: to ebb
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Ant.                       O,
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mock M
it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run
By their own fear or sloth.
Seb.                    Prithee, say on:
The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
Ant.                         Thus, sir:
Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
Who shall be of as little memory
d, hath here almost persuaded,--
s a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade,--the king his son
Tis as impossible that he
As he that sleeps here swims.
Seb.                      I have no hope
Ant.             O, out of that

What great hope have you! no hope that way is
Another way so high a hope that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown
Seb.                   He
Ant.                            Then, tell me,
s the next heir of Naples?
Seb.                       Claribel.
Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man
s life; she that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were post,--
s too slow,--till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; she that from whom
We all were sea-swallow
d, though some cast again,
tiny, to perform an act
s past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.
Seb.                   What stuff is this! How say you?
Tis true, my brother
So is she heir of Naples;
There is some space.
Ant.             A space whose every cubit
How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.
 Say, this were death
 hath seized them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily
As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Ant.              And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
              I remember
You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Ant.                                True:
And look how well my garments sit upon me;
Much feater than before: my brother
Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
Seb. But for your conscience.
Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if
Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,
twixt me and Milan, candied be they,               M
And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,
If he were that which now he
Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
ll tell the clock to any business that               M
We say befits the hour.
Seb.                Thy case, dear friend,
Shall be my precedent; as thou got
ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;
And I the king shall love thee.
Ant.                        Draw together;
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.
Seb.               O, but one word.      [They talk apart.]
  Re-enter ARIEL invisible.
Ari. My master througM
h his art foresees the danger
That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth,--
For else his project dies,--to keep them living.
                            [Sings in Gonzalo
While you here do snoring lie,
Open-eyed conspiracy
    His time doth take.
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Ant. Then let us both be sudden.
Gon.                           Now, good angels
Preserve the king!       M
                   [They wake.]
Alon. Why, how now? ho, awake!--Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
Gon.                        What
s the matter?
Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions: did
It struck mine ear most terribly.
Alon.                         I heard nothing.
twas a din to fright a monster
s ear,
To make an earthquakM
e! sure, it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
Alon.                 Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open
I saw their weapons drawn:--there was a noise,
Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place: let
Alon. Lead off this ground; and let
s make further search
       Heavens keep him from these beasts!
Alon.                       Lead away.
Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.    [Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Another part of the island.
  Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.
Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
ds must curse. But they
Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i
 the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid
For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me,
And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
                        Lo, now, lo!
Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly. I
Perchance he will not mind me.
s neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any
weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i
the wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks
like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should
thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my hM
yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What
have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he
smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind
of not of the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I
in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish
painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of
silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange
beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to
relieve a lame beggar, they wM
ill lay out ten to see a dead
Indian. Legged like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm
 my troth! I do now let loose my opinion; hold it no
longer: this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately
suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas, the storm is come
again! my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there
is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with
strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the
  Enter STEPHANO, singing: a bottle in his hanM
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
                Here shall I die a-shore,--
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man
s my comfort.                                  [Drinks.]
[Sings.] The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
                       The gunner, and his mate,
               Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
                   But none of us cared for Kate;
                   For she hadM
 a tongue with a tang,
                   Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
               She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch;
               Yet a tailor might scratch her where
                   Then, to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
This is a scurvy tune too: but here
s my comfort. [Drinks.]
Cal. Do not torment me:--O!
s the matter? Have we devils here? Do
you put tricks upon
s with savages and men of Ind, ha? I
ped drowning, to be afeard now of your four
legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went
on four legs cannot make him give ground; and it shall be
said so again, while Stephano breathes at
s nostrils.
Cal. The spirit torments me:--O!
Ste. This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who
hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he
learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be
but for that. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and
get to Naples with him, he
s a present for any emperor that
Cal. Do not torment me, prithee; I
s in his fit now, and does not talk after the
wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk
wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover
him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for
him; he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.
Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; M
thou wilt anon, I
know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that
which will give language to you, cat: open your mouth; this
will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly:
s your friend: open your chaps again.
Trin. I should know that voice: it should be--but he
is drowned; and these are devils:--O defend me!
Ste. Four legs and two voices,--a most delicate monster!
His forward voice, nM
ow, is to speak well of his friend;
his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.
If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help
his ague. Come:--Amen! I will pour some in thy other
Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy!
This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have
Trin. Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me,
and speak to me; for I am Trinculo,--be not afeard,--thy
culo.
Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I
by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo
s legs, these are they.
Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How earnest thou to be
the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos?
Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke.
But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope, now, thou
art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me
under the dead moon-calf
s gaberdine for fear of the sM
And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans
scaped!
Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not
Cal. [aside] These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.
s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor:
I will kneel to him.
Ste. How didst thou
scape? How camest thou hither?
swear, by this bottle, how thou camest hither. I escaped
ack, which the sailors heaved o
this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree with mine
own hands, since I was cast ashore.
ll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject;
for the liquor is not earthly.
Ste. Here; swear, then, how thou escapedst.
Trin. Swum ashore, man, like a duck: I can swim
ll be sworn.
Ste. Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim
like a duck, thou art made lM
Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this?
Ste. The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by
the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
how does thine ague?
Cal. Hast thou not dropp
 the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man
 the moon when time was.
Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee:
d me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush.
Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furniM
it anon with new contents: swear.
Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!
I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The
 the moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well
drawn, monster, in good sooth!
ll show thee every fertile inch o
And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
ll swear myself thy subject.
Ste. Come on, then; down, and swear.
Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed
monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in
my heart to beat him,--
Trin. But that the poor monster
s in drink: an abominable
ll show thee the best springs; I
ll pluck thee berries;
ll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
ll bear him no more sticks,M
Trin. A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder
Cal. I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
s nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmoset; I
ll bring thee
To clustering filberts, and sometimes I
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
Ste. I prithee now, lead the way, without any more
ng. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being
drowned, we will inherit here: here; bear my bottle: fellow
ll fill him by and by again.
Cal. sings drunkenly.] Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!
Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster!
                Nor fetch in firing
                At requiring;
             Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish:
            Has a new master:--get a new man.
Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day,
Ste. O brave monster! Lead the way.    [Exeunt.]
SCENE I. Before PROSPERO
  Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.
Fer. There be some sports are painful, and their labour
Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me as odious, but                   M
The mistress which I serve quickens what
And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father
s composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busy lest, when I do it.
  Enter MIRANDA; andM
 PROSPERO at a distance, unseen.
Mir.                  Alas, now, pray you,
Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin
Pray, set it down, and rest you: when this burns,
Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself;
s safe for these three hours.
Fer.                         O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
Mir.                  If you
ll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;
ll carry it to the pile.
Fer.                   No, precious creature;
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
Mir.             It would become me
As well as it does you: and I should do it
With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours it is against.
     Poor worm, thou art infected!
This visitation shows it.
Mir.                  You look wearily.
Fer. No, noble mistress;
tis fresh morning with me
When you are by at night. I do beseech you,--
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,--
Mir.           Miranda. --O my father,
I have broke your hest to say so!
Fer.                          Admired Miranda!
Indeed the top of admiration! worth
s dearest to the world! Full many a lady
eyed with best regard, and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I liked several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Mir.             I do not know
One of my sex; no woman
s, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,
I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father
I therein do forget.
Fer.             I am, in my condition,
A prince, Miranda; I do thinM
k, a king;
I would, not so!--and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.
Mir.                   Do you love me?
Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true! if hollowly,M
 invert
What best is boded me to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else i
Do love, prize, honour you.
Mir.                    I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.
Pros.                     Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between
Fer.                          Wherefore weep you?
Mir. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
What I desire to give; and much less takM
What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
ll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I
ll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
Fer.                My mistress, dearest;
And I thus humble ever.
Mir.                My husband, then?
, with a heart as willing
Mir. And mine, with my heart in
t: and now farewell
Till half an hour hence.
Fer.                 A thousand thousand!
    [Exeunt Fer. and Mir. severally.]
Pros. So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I
For yet, ere supper-time, must I perform
Much business appertaining.    [Exit.]
her part of the island.
  Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO.
Ste. Tell not me;--when the butt is out, we will drink
water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board
Servant-monster, drink to me.
Trin. Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They
s but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if
 other two be brained like us, the state totters.
Ste. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes
are almost set in thy head.
Trin. Where should they M
be set else? he were a brave
monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
Ste. My man-monster hath drowned his tongue in sack:
for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I could
recover the shore, five-and-thirty leagues off and on. By
this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my
standard.
Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list; he
ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
ll lie, like dogs, and
yet say nothing neither.
Ste. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a
Cal. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.
ll not serve him, he is not valiant.
Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case
to justle a constable. Why, thou debauched fish, thou, was
there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as
I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a
fish and half a monster?
al. Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?
 quoth he! That a monster should be
Cal. Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.
Ste. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you
prove a mutineer,--the next tree! The poor monster
subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.
Cal. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to
hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Ste. Marry, will I: kneel and M
repeat it; I will stand,
and so shall Trinculo.
  Enter ARIEL, invisible.
Cal. As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a
sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Cal.           Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou:
I would my valiant master would destroy thee!
Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in
s tale, by
this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
Trin. Why, I said nothing.
Cal. I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
From me he got it. If thy greatness will
Revenge it on him,--for I know thou darest,
But this thing dare not,--
Cal. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I
Ste. How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou
bring me to the party?
Cal. Yea, yea, my lord: I
ll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
Ari. Thou liest; thou canM
Cal. What a pied ninny
s this! Thou scurvy patch!
I do beseech thy Greatness, give him blows,
And take his bottle from him: when that
He shall drink nought but brine; for I
Where the quick freshes are.
Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the
monster one word further, and, by this hand, I
 doors, and make a stock-fish of thee.
Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing. I
. Didst thou not say he lied?
Ste. Do I so? take thou that. [Beats him.] As you
like this, give me the lie another time.
Trin. I did not give the lie. Out o
hearing too? A pox o
 your bottle! this can sack and
drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil
Ste. Now, forward with your tale. --Prithee, stand farther
off.                                                  M
Cal. Beat him enough: after a little time,
Ste. Stand farther. Come, proceed.
Cal. Why, as I told thee,
tis a custom with him
 afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him,
Having first seized his books; or with a log
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
First to possess his books; for without them
s but a sot, as I am, nor hath not
One spirit to command: they all do hM
ate him
As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.
He has brave utensils,--for so he calls them,--
Which, when he has a house, he
And that most deeply to consider is
The beauty of his daughter; he himself
Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
Ste.                Is it so brave a lass?
Cal. Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant,  M
And bring thee forth brave brood.
Ste. Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I
will be king and queen,--save our Graces!--and Trinculo
and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot,
Trinculo?
Ste. Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but,
while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.
Cal. Within this half hour will he be asleep:
Wilt thou destroy him then?
Ste.                  M
  Ay, on mine honour.
Ari. This will I tell my master.
Cal. Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleasure:
Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch
You taught me but while-ere?
Ste. At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any
reason. --Come on. Trinculo, let us sing.      [Sings.]
  [Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.]
 same?
Trin. This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture
Ste. If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness:
if thou beest a devil, take
Trin. O, forgive me my sins!
Ste. He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy
Cal. Art thou afeard?
Ste. No, monster, not I.
Cal. Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give M
delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
Ste. This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I
shall have my music for nothing.
Cal. When Prospero is destroyed.
 shall be by and by: I remember the story.
Trin. The sound is going away; let
Ste. Lead, monster; we
ll follow. I would I could see
this taborer; he lays it on.
ll follow, Stephano.    [Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Another part of the island.
  Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,
r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
My old bones ache: here
s a maze trod, indeed,
ts and meanders! By your patience,
I needs must rest me.
Alon.             Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am myself attach
d with weariness,
To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.
Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it
No longer for my flatterer: he is drown
Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
Ant. [Aside to Seb.] I am right glad that he
for one repulse, forego the purpose
That you resolved to effect.
Seb. [Aside to Ant.] The next advantage
Will we take throughly.
Ant. [Aside to Seb.] Let it be to-night;
For, now they are oppress
d with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
Seb. [Aside to Ant.] I say, to-night: no more.
  [Solemn and strange music.]
Alon. What harmony is this?--My good friends, hark!
Gon. Marvellous sweet music!
  Enter PROSPERO above, invisiM
ble. Enter several strange Shapes,
  bringing in a banquet: they dance about it with gentle actions of
  salutation; and, inviting the King, &c. to eat, they depart.
Alon. Give us kind keepers, heavens!--What were these?
Seb. A living drollery. Now I will believe
That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
There is one tree, the ph
At this hour reigning there.
Ant.                     I
And what does else want credit, come to me,                 M
tis true: travellers ne
Though fools at home condemn
Gon.                          If in Naples
I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders,--
For, certes, these are people of the island,--
Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
Our human generation you shall find
Many, nay, almost any.
Pros.              [Aside] Honest lord,
ou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
Alon.              I cannot too much muse
Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing--
Although they want the use of tongue--a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.
Pros.                    [Aside] Praise in departing.
Seb.                         No matter, since
They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.--
t please you taste M
Alon.                                Not I.
Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
Who would believe that there were mountaineers
d like bulls, whose throats had hanging at
Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
Alon.        I will stand to, and feed,
Although my last: no matter, since I feel                        M
The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to, and do as we.
  Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps his
  wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet
Ari. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,--
That hath to instrument this lower world
t,--the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island,
Where man doth not inhabit,--you
Being most unfit to live. I have made yoM
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves.    [Alon., Seb. &c. draw their swords.]
                   You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of Fate: the elements,
Of whom your swords are temper
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
s in my plume: my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy foM
And will not be uplifted. But remember,--
s my business to you,--that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:
Lingering perdition--worse than M
Can be at once--shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from,--
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads,--is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.
  He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter the Shapes
  again, and dance, with mocks and mows, and carrying out the
Pros. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thM
ou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,
And these mine enemies are all knit up
In their distractions: they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
Young Ferdinand,--whom they suppose is drown
And his and mine loved darling.    [Exit above.]
 the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
Alon.              O, it is monstrous, monstrous!
Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
 ooze is bedded; and
ll seek him deeper than e
And with him there lie mudded.    [Exit.]
Seb.                       But one fiend at a time,
Ant.                       I
    [Exeunt Seb. and Ant.]
Gon. All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,
Like poison given to work a great time after,
gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,
And hinder them from what this ecstasy
May now provoke them to.
Adr.                 Follow, I pray you.    [Exeunt.]
SCENE I. Before PROSPERO
RO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA.
Pros. If I have too austerely punish
Your compensation makes amends; for I
Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live; who once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,                M
And make it halt behind her.
Fer.                     I do believe it
Pros.          Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchased, take my daughter: but
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
on of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
s lamps shall light you.
Fer.                          As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue and long life,
tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong
Our worser Genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day
When I shall think, or Ph
Pros.                    Fairly spoke.
Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.
What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
Ari. What would my potent master? here I am.
Pros. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform; and I must use you
In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
er whom I give thee power, here to this place:
Incite them to quick motion; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of thiM
s young couple
Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
Ari.                    Presently?
Pros. Ay, with a twink.
Ari. Before you can say,
            And breathe twice, and cry,
            Each one, tripping on his toe,
            Will be here with mop and mow.
            Do you love me, master? no?
Pros. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
Till thou dost hear me call.
Ari.                     Well, I conceive.    [Exit.]
Pros. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw
 the blood: be more abstemious,
Or else, good night your vow!
Fer.                      I warrant you, sir;
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
Pros.                      Well.
Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly!M
No tongue! all eyes! be silent.                  [Soft music.]
  Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
    Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease;
    Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
    And flat meads thatch
d with stover, them to keep;
    Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
    Which spongy April at thy best betrims,
    To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom-groves,
    Whose shadow the dM
ismissed bachelor loves,
    Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
    And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
    Where thou thyself dost air;--the queen o
 the sky,
    Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
    Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,
    Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
    To come and sport:--her peacocks fly amain:
    Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
  Cer. Hail, many-colour
    Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
    Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers
    Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers;
    And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
    My bosky acres and my unshrubb
    Rich scarf to my proud earth;--why hath thy queen
d me hither, to this short-grass
  Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate;
    And some donation freely to estate
  Cer.             Tell me, heavenly bow,
    If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
    Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot
    The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
    Her and her blind boy
d company
    I have forsworn.
  Iris.        Of her society
    Be not afraid: I met her Deity
    Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
    Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
    Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,    M
    Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
s torch be lighted: but in vain;
s hot minion is returned again;
    Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
    Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows,
    And be a boy right out.
  Cer.                High
    Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
  Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
    To bless this twain, that theM
y may prosperous be,
d in their issue.         [They sing:]
  Juno. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
            Long continuance, and increasing,
            Hourly joys be still upon you!
            Juno sings her blessings on you.
s increase, foison plenty,
            Barns and garners never empty;
            Vines with clustering bunches growing;
            Plants with goodly burthen bowing;
            Spring come to youM
            In the very end of harvest!
            Scarcity and want shall shun you;
 blessing so is on you.
Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?
Pros.               Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call
Fer.            Let me live here ever;
    [Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment.]
Pros.                  Sweet, now, silence!
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
s something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr
  Iris. You nymphs, call
d Naiads, of the windring brooks,
            With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,
            Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
            Answer your summons; Juno does command:M
            Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
            A contract of true love; be not too late.
    Enter certain Nymphs.
            You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
            Come hither from the furrow, and be merry:
            Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on,
            And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
            In country footing.
    Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the
    Nymphs in a graceful dance; towardsM
 the end whereof PROSPERO
    starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow,
    and confused noise, they heavily vanish.
Pros. [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
Against my life: the minute of their plot
Is almost come. [To the Spirits.] Well done! avoid; no more!
Fer. This is strange: your father
That works him strongly.
Mir.                 Never till this day
d.
Pros. You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismay
d: be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant fM
aded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled:
d with my infirmity:
If you be pleased, retire into my cell,
And there repose: a turn or two I
To still my beating mind.
Fer. Mir.           We wish your peace.    [Exeunt.]
Pros. Come with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel: come.
Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What
s thy pleasure?
Pros.                                             Spirit,
We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ari. Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres,
I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear
Lest I might anger thee.
Pros. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the groM
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor;
At which, like unback
Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music: so I charm
That, calf-like, they my lowing follow
d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
d their frail shins: at last I left them
 the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
p to the chins, that the foul lake
Pros.             This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,
For stale to catch these thieves.
Ari.                          I go, I go.    [Exit.]
Pros. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
o his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
  Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.
Come, hang them on this line.
  PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible. Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO,
  and TRINCULO, all wet.
Cal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.
Ste. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless
fairy, has done little better than played the Jack with us.
Trin. Monster, I do smelM
l all horse-piss; at which my
nose is in great indignation.
Ste. So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should
take a displeasure against you, look you,--
Trin. Thou wert but a lost monster.
Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I
Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.
Trin. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,--
Ste. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in thM
monster, but an infinite loss.
s more to me than my wetting: yet this is
your harmless fairy, monster.
Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o
Cal. Prithee, my king, be quiet. See
 the cell: no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
Ste. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody

Trin. O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!
look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
Cal. Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
Trin. O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery.
O King Stephano!
Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I
Trin. Thy Grace shall have it.
Cal. The dropsy drown this fool! what do you mean
To dote thus on such luggM
s alone,
And do the murder first: if he awake,
From toe to crown he
ll fill our skins with pinches,
Make us strange stuff.
Ste. Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is not this
my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin,
you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald jerkin.
Trin. Do, do: we steal by line and level, an
Ste. I thank thee for that jest; here
wit shall not go unrewarded while I M
am king of this country.
Steal by line and level
 is an excellent pass of pate;
s another garment for
Trin. Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers,
and away with the rest.
Cal. I will have none on
t: we shall lose our time,
d to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads villanous low.
Ste. Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this
away where my hogshead of wine is, or I
of my kingdom: go to, carry this.            M

  A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits, in shape of
  dogs and hounds, and hunt them about, PROSPERO and ARIEL setting
Pros. Hey, Mountain, hey!
Ari. Silver! there it goes, Silver!
Pros. Fury, fury! there, Tyrant, there! hark, hark!
                        [Cal., Ste., and Trin. are driven out.]
Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions; shorten up their sinews
d cramps; and more pinch-spotted make them
Ari.                      Hark, they roar!
Pros. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lie at my mercy all mine enemies:
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little
Follow, and do me service.    [Exeunt.]
SCENE I. Before the cell of Prospero.
  Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL.
Pros. Now does my project gather to a head:
crack not; my spirits obey; and time
Goes upright with his carriage. How
Ari. On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.
Pros.                       I did say so,
When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the king and
Ari.                            Confined together
In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the line-grove which weather-fends your cellM
;
They cannot budge till your release. The king,
His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,
And the remainder mourning over them,
Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
The good old lord, Gonzalo;
His tears run down his beard, like winter
From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.
Pros.            Dost thou think so, spirit?
 would, sir, were I human.
Pros.                             And mine shall.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
Yet with my nobler reason
Do I take part: the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpM
Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:
ll break, their senses I
And they shall be themselves.
Ari.                      I
ll fetch them, sir.    [Exit.]
Pros. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
e not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid--
Weak masters though ye be--I have bedimm
The noontide sun, call
d forth the mutinous winds.
twixt the green sea and the azured vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove
s stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck
e pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have required
Some heavenly music,--which even now I do,--
To work mine end upon their senses, that
This airy charm is for, I
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
ll drown my book.                    [Solemn music.]
er ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a frantic gesture,
  attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner,
  attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO: they all enter the circle
  which PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO
  observing, speaks:
A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,
d within thy skull! There stand,
For you are spell-stopp
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
Mine eyes, even sociable to the showM
Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace;
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal sir
st! I will pay thy graces
Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
t now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
You, brother mine, that entertain
d ambition,
d remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,--
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,--
Would here have kill
d your king; I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell; and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shore,
That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them
That yet looks on me, or would know me: M
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:
I will discase me, and myself present
As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.
ARIEL sings and helps to attire him.
    Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
    There I couch when owls do cry.
    After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.
s ship, invisible as thou art:
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
Being awake, enforce them to this place,
And presently, I prithee.
Ari. I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat.    [Exit.]
Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
Inhabits here: some heavenly poM
wer guide us
Out of this fearful country!
Pros.                    Behold, sir king,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee and thy company I bid
Alon.         Whether thou be
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
ction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me: this must crave--
An if this be at all--a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. --But how should Prospero
Be living and be here?
Pros.              First, noble friend,
Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measured or confined.
Gon.                 Whether this be
Pros.                  You do yet taste
 the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!
[Aside to Seb. and Ant.]
    But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,
I here could pluck his Highness
And justify you traitors: at this time
I will tell no tales.
Seb. [Aside]    The devil speaks in him.
Pros.                                    No.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
hy rankest fault,--all of them; and require
My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,
Alon.          If thou be
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
d upon this shore; where I have lost--
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!--
My dear son Ferdinand.
Pros.              I am woe for
Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and patience
Pros.                 I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.
Alon.                You the like loss!
Pros. As great to me as late; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.
Alon.              A daughter?
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The king and queen there! thatM
 they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose you daughter?
Pros. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,
That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath: but, howsoe
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangeM
Upon this shore, where you were wreck
t. No more yet of this;
tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
s my court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
s much as me my dukedom.
  Here Prospero discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess.
Mir. Sweet lord, you play me false.
Fer.                              No, my dear
I would not for the world.
Mir. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
And I would call it fair play.
Alon.                      If this prove
A vision of the island, one dear son
Seb.            A most high miracle!
Fer. Though the seas threaten, they areM
I have cursed them without cause.               [Kneels.]
Alon.                          Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou camest here.
Mir.                             O, wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in
Pros.
Alon. What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath sever
And brought us thus together?
Fer.                      Sir, she is mortal;
But by immortal Providence she
I chose her when I could not ask my father
For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown,
But never saw before; of whom I have
Received a second life; and second father
ady makes him to me.
Alon.                  I am hers:
But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!
Pros.                      There, sir, stop:
Let us not burthen our remembrances with
Gon.                 I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
For it is you that have chalk
Which brought us hither.
Alon.                I say, AmM
Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy! and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle, and all of us ourselves
When no man was his own.
Alon. [to Fer. and Mir.] Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace hiM
That doth not wish you joy!
Gon.                    Be it so! Amen!
  Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly
O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us:
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,
erboard, not an oath on shore?
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
Boats. The best news is, that we have safely found
Our king and company; M
the next, our ship--
Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split--
Is tight and yare and bravely rigg
We first put out to sea.
Ari. [Aside to Pros.] Sir, all this service
Have I done since I went.
Pros. [Aside to Ari.] My tricksy spirit!
Alon. These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
--how we know not--all clapp
Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Capering to eye her:--on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.
Ari. [Aside to Pros.] Was
l done?
Pros. [Aside to Ari.] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
Alon. This is as strange a maze as e
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.
Pros.                   Sir, my liege,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business; at pick
Which shall be shortly, single I
Which to you shall seem probable, oM
d accidents; till when, be cheerful,
And think of each thing well.
    [Aside to Ari.] Come hither, spirit:
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell. [Exit Ariel.] How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.
  Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO,
  in their stolen apparel.
Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man
r himself; for all is but fortune. --Coragio,
bully-monster, coragio!
Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
s a goodly sight.
Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.
Seb.             Ha, ha!
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Ant.            Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command, without her power.
These three have robb
d me; and this demi-devil--
s a bastard one--had plotted with them
To take my life. Two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Cal.          I shall be pinch
Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine?
Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded
em?--
How camest thou in this pickle?
Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you
last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not
Seb. Why, how now, Stephano!
Ste. O, touch me not;--I am not Stephano,M
Ste. I should have been a sore one, then.
Alon. This is a strange thing as e
                                [Pointing to Caliban.]
Pros. He is as disproportion
d in his manners
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
Cal. Ay, that I will; and I
ll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass M

Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool!
Pros.                Go to; away!
Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
Seb. Or stole it, rather.    [Exeunt Cal., Ste., and Trin.]
Pros. Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which, part of it, I
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away: the story of my life,
he particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
ll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
Alon.                              I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
Pros.               I
And promise you calM
m seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious, that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to Ari.] My Ariel, chick,
That is thy charge: then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
Now my charms are all o
And what strength I have
Which is most faint: now,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
d the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
 crimes would pardon
Let your indulgence set me free.
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, according to the promise of life which is in Christ Jesus,
1:2: To Timothy, my dearly beloved son: Grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
1:3: I thank God, whom I serve from my forefathers with pure conscience, that without ceasing I have remembrance of thee in my prayers night and day;
1:4: Greatly desiring to see thee, being mindful of tM
hy tears, that I may be filled with joy;
1:5: When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also.
1:6: Wherefore I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee by the putting on of my hands.
1:7: For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
1:8: Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisM
oner: but be thou partaker of the afflictions of the gospel according to the power of God;
1:9: Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began,
1:10: But is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel:
1:11: Whereunto I am appointed a preacher, and an apostle, and a teaM
cher of the Gentiles.
1:12: For the which cause I also suffer these things: nevertheless I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.
1:13: Hold fast the form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.
1:14: That good thing which was committed unto thee keep by the Holy Ghost which dwelleth in us.
1:15: This thou knowest, that all they which are in Asia be turned away fM
rom me; of whom are Phygellus and Hermogenes.
1:16: The Lord give mercy unto the house of Onesiphorus; for he oft refreshed me, and was not ashamed of my chain:
1:17: But, when he was in Rome, he sought me out very diligently, and found me.
1:18: The Lord grant unto him that he may find mercy of the Lord in that day: and in how many things he ministered unto me at Ephesus, thou knowest very well.
2:1: Thou therefore, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.
2:2: And the things that thou haM
st heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.
2:3: Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.
2:4: No man that warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life; that he may please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier.
2:5: And if a man also strive for masteries, yet is he not crowned, except he strive lawfully.
2:6: The husbandman that laboureth must be first partaker of the fruits.
2:7: Consider what I say; and M
the Lord give thee understanding in all things.
2:8: Remember that Jesus Christ of the seed of David was raised from the dead according to my gospel:
2:9: Wherein I suffer trouble, as an evil doer, even unto bonds; but the word of God is not bound.
2:10: Therefore I endure all things for the elect's sakes, that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.
2:11: It is a faithful saying: For if we be dead with him, we shall also live with him:
2:12: If we suffer, we shall also reignM
 with him: if we deny him, he also will deny us:
2:13: If we believe not, yet he abideth faithful: he cannot deny himself.
2:14: Of these things put them in remembrance, charging them before the Lord that they strive not about words to no profit, but to the subverting of the hearers.
2:15: Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.
2:16: But shun profane and vain babblings: for they will increase unto more ungodliness.
2:17: And their word M
will eat as doth a canker: of whom is Hymenaeus and Philetus;
2:18: Who concerning the truth have erred, saying that the resurrection is past already; and overthrow the faith of some.
2:19: Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his. And, Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.
2:20: But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and some to dishonour.
1: If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master's use, and prepared unto every good work.
2:22: Flee also youthful lusts: but follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart.
2:23: But foolish and unlearned questions avoid, knowing that they do gender strifes.
2:24: And the servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient,
2:25: In meekness instructing those thM
at oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth;
2:26: And that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will.
3:1: This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
3:2: For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3:3: Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, deM
spisers of those that are good,
3:4: Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
3:5: Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.
3:6: For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts,
3:7: Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.
3:8: Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, reprobate conceM
3:9: But they shall proceed no further: for their folly shall be manifest unto all men, as theirs also was.
3:10: But thou hast fully known my doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith, longsuffering, charity, patience,
3:11: Persecutions, afflictions, which came unto me at Antioch, at Iconium, at Lystra; what persecutions I endured: but out of them all the Lord delivered me.
3:12: Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.
3:13: But evil men and seducers shall wax wM
orse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived.
3:14: But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them;
3:15: And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.
3:16: All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness:
3:17: That the man of God may be perfect, thrM
oughly furnished unto all good works.
4:1: I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom;
4:2: Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine.
4:3: For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears;
4:4: And they shall turn away their ears from the truM
th, and shall be turned unto fables.
4:5: But watch thou in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry.
4:6: For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.
4:7: I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:
4:8: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.
 Do thy diligence to come shortly unto me:
4:10: For Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world, and is departed unto Thessalonica; Crescens to Galatia, Titus unto Dalmatia.
4:11: Only Luke is with me. Take Mark, and bring him with thee: for he is profitable to me for the ministry.
4:12: And Tychicus have I sent to Ephesus.
4:13: The cloke that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments.
4:14: Alexander the coppersmith did me much evil: M
the Lord reward him according to his works:
4:15: Of whom be thou ware also; for he hath greatly withstood our words.
4:16: At my first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me: I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge.
4:17: Notwithstanding the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me; that by me the preaching might be fully known, and that all the Gentiles might hear: and I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion.
4:18: And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve mM
e unto his heavenly kingdom: to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
4:19: Salute Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus.
4:20: Erastus abode at Corinth: but Trophimus have I left at Miletum sick.
4:21: Do thy diligence to come before winter. Eubulus greeteth thee, and Pudens, and Linus, and Claudia, and all the brethren.
4:22: The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit. Grace be with you. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the commandment of God our Saviour, and Lord Jesus Christ, which is our hope;
1:2: Unto Timothy, my own son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace, from God our Father and Jesus Christ our Lord.
1:3: As I besought thee to abide still at Ephesus, when I went into Macedonia, that thou mightest charge some that they teach no other doctrine,
1:4: Neither give heed to fables and endless genealogM
ies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith: so do.
1:5: Now the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned:
1:6: From which some having swerved have turned aside unto vain jangling;
1:7: Desiring to be teachers of the law; understanding neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm.
1:8: But we know that the law is good, if a man use it lawfully;
1:9: Knowing this, that the law is not made for a righteous man, but for theM
 lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and for sinners, for unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers,
1:10: For whoremongers, for them that defile themselves with mankind, for menstealers, for liars, for perjured persons, and if there be any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine;
1:11: According to the glorious gospel of the blessed God, which was committed to my trust.
1:12: And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he counted me faithM
ful, putting me into the ministry;
1:13: Who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious: but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief.
1:14: And the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.
1:15: This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.
1:16: Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might shew forth all longsuffering, fM
or a pattern to them which should hereafter believe on him to life everlasting.
1:17: Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
1:18: This charge I commit unto thee, son Timothy, according to the prophecies which went before on thee, that thou by them mightest war a good warfare;
1:19: Holding faith, and a good conscience; which some having put away concerning faith have made shipwreck:
1:20: Of whom is Hymenaeus and Alexander; whom I have deliveM
red unto Satan, that they may learn not to blaspheme.
2:1: I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men;
2:2: For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.
2:3: For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour;
2:4: Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth.
2:5: For there is one God, and one mediator betwM
een God and men, the man Christ Jesus;
2:6: Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time.
2:7: Whereunto I am ordained a preacher, and an apostle, (I speak the truth in Christ, and lie not;) a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and verity.
2:8: I will therefore that men pray every where, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting.
2:9: In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly arraM
2:10: But (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works.
2:11: Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection.
2:12: But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.
2:13: For Adam was first formed, then Eve.
2:14: And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression.
2:15: Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing, if they continue in faith and charity and holiness with sobriety.
3:1: This is a true saM
ying, If a man desire the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work.
3:2: A bishop then must be blameless, the husband of one wife, vigilant, sober, of good behaviour, given to hospitality, apt to teach;
3:3: Not given to wine, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre; but patient, not a brawler, not covetous;
3:4: One that ruleth well his own house, having his children in subjection with all gravity;
3:5: (For if a man know not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of the church of God?)
ice, lest being lifted up with pride he fall into the condemnation of the devil.
3:7: Moreover he must have a good report of them which are without; lest he fall into reproach and the snare of the devil.
3:8: Likewise must the deacons be grave, not doubletongued, not given to much wine, not greedy of filthy lucre;
3:9: Holding the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience.
3:10: And let these also first be proved; then let them use the office of a deacon, being found blameless.
3:11: Even so must their wives be graM
ve, not slanderers, sober, faithful in all things.
3:12: Let the deacons be the husbands of one wife, ruling their children and their own houses well.
3:13: For they that have used the office of a deacon well purchase to themselves a good degree, and great boldness in the faith which is in Christ Jesus.
3:14: These things write I unto thee, hoping to come unto thee shortly:
3:15: But if I tarry long, that thou mayest know how thou oughtest to behave thyself in the house of God, which is the church of the living GodM
, the pillar and ground of the truth.
3:16: And without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory.
4:1: Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils;
4:2: Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron;
 marry, and commanding to abstain from meats, which God hath created to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth.
4:4: For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving:
4:5: For it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer.
4:6: If thou put the brethren in remembrance of these things, thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished up in the words of faith and of good doctrine, whereunto thou hast attained.
4:7: But refuse proM
fane and old wives' fables, and exercise thyself rather unto godliness.
4:8: For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.
4:9: This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation.
4:10: For therefore we both labour and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Saviour of all men, specially of those that believe.
4:11: These things command and teach.
4:12: Let no man despise thy youthM
; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.
4:13: Till I come, give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine.
4:14: Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery.
4:15: Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to all.
4:16: Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them: for in doing this thou shalt bM
oth save thyself, and them that hear thee.
5:1: Rebuke not an elder, but intreat him as a father; and the younger men as brethren;
5:2: The elder women as mothers; the younger as sisters, with all purity.
5:3: Honour widows that are widows indeed.
5:4: But if any widow have children or nephews, let them learn first to shew piety at home, and to requite their parents: for that is good and acceptable before God.
5:5: Now she that is a widow indeed, and desolate, trusteth in God, and continueth in supplicatM
ions and prayers night and day.
5:6: But she that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth.
5:7: And these things give in charge, that they may be blameless.
5:8: But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.
5:9: Let not a widow be taken into the number under threescore years old, having been the wife of one man,
5:10: Well reported of for good works; if she have brought up children, if she have lodged strangers, if she haveM
 washed the saints' feet, if she have relieved the afflicted, if she have diligently followed every good work.
5:11: But the younger widows refuse: for when they have begun to wax wanton against Christ, they will marry;
5:12: Having damnation, because they have cast off their first faith.
5:13: And withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not.
5:14: I will therefore that the younger women marry, bear chilM
dren, guide the house, give none occasion to the adversary to speak reproachfully.
5:15: For some are already turned aside after Satan.
5:16: If any man or woman that believeth have widows, let them relieve them, and let not the church be charged; that it may relieve them that are widows indeed.
5:17: Let the elders that rule well be counted worthy of double honour, especially they who labour in the word and doctrine.
5:18: For the scripture saith, Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn. And, The lM
abourer is worthy of his reward.
5:19: Against an elder receive not an accusation, but before two or three witnesses.
5:20: Them that sin rebuke before all, that others also may fear.
5:21: I charge thee before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, and the elect angels, that thou observe these things without preferring one before another, doing nothing by partiality.
5:22: Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men's sins: keep thyself pure.
5:23: Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy sM
tomach's sake and thine often infirmities.
5:24: Some men's sins are open beforehand, going before to judgment; and some men they follow after.
5:25: Likewise also the good works of some are manifest beforehand; and they that are otherwise cannot be hid.
6:1: Let as many servants as are under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honour, that the name of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed.
6:2: And they that have believing masters, let them not despise them, because they are brethren; but raM
ther do them service, because they are faithful and beloved, partakers of the benefit. These things teach and exhort.
6:3: If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which is according to godliness;
6:4: He is proud, knowing nothing, but doting about questions and strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, railings, evil surmisings,
6:5: Perverse disputings of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, supposing that gain iM
s godliness: from such withdraw thyself.
6:6: But godliness with contentment is great gain.
6:7: For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.
6:8: And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.
6:9: But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.
6:10: For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pieM
rced themselves through with many sorrows.
6:11: But thou, O man of God, flee these things; and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness.
6:12: Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses.
6:13: I give thee charge in the sight of God, who quickeneth all things, and before Christ Jesus, who before Pontius Pilate witnessed a good confession;
6:14: That thou keep this commandment withouM
t spot, unrebukeable, until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ:
6:15: Which in his times he shall shew, who is the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords;
6:16: Who only hath immortality, dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto; whom no man hath seen, nor can see: to whom be honour and power everlasting. Amen.
6:17: Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not highminded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to M
6:18: That they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate;
6:19: Laying up in store for themselves a good foundation against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life.
6:20: O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called:
6:21: Which some professing have erred concerning the faith. Grace be with thee. Amen.h!
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1:1: Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,
1:2: Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ: Grace unto you, and peace, be multiplied.
1:3: Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begM
otten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
1:4: To an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you,
1:5: Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.
1:6: Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations:
1:7: That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be M
tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:
1:8: Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:
1:9: Receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls.
1:10: Of which salvation the prophets have enquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace that should come unto you:
1:11: Searching what, or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ which was in M
them did signify, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow.
1:12: Unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us they did minister the things, which are now reported unto you by them that have preached the gospel unto you with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven; which things the angels desire to look into.
1:13: Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of JM
1:14: As obedient children, not fashioning yourselves according to the former lusts in your ignorance:
1:15: But as he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation;
1:16: Because it is written, Be ye holy; for I am holy.
1:17: And if ye call on the Father, who without respect of persons judgeth according to every man's work, pass the time of your sojourning here in fear:
1:18: Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from M
your vain conversation received by tradition from your fathers;
1:19: But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot:
1:20: Who verily was foreordained before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for you,
1:21: Who by him do believe in God, that raised him up from the dead, and gave him glory; that your faith and hope might be in God.
1:22: Seeing ye have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit unto unfeigned love of the brethrenM
, see that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently:
1:23: Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.
1:24: For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away:
1:25: But the word of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you.
2:1: Wherefore laying aside all malice, and all guile, and hypocrisiesM
, and envies, and all evil speakings,
2:2: As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby:
2:3: If so be ye have tasted that the Lord is gracious.
2:4: To whom coming, as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious,
2:5: Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.
2:6: Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture, Behold, I lay in Sion a chiefM
 corner stone, elect, precious: and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded.
2:7: Unto you therefore which believe he is precious: but unto them which be disobedient, the stone which the builders disallowed, the same is made the head of the corner,
2:8: And a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, even to them which stumble at the word, being disobedient: whereunto also they were appointed.
2:9: But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew fM
orth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light:
2:10: Which in time past were not a people, but are now the people of God: which had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy.
2:11: Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul;
2:12: Having your conversation honest among the Gentiles: that, whereas they speak against you as evildoers, they may by your good works, which they shall behold, glorify God in thM
e day of visitation.
2:13: Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake: whether it be to the king, as supreme;
2:14: Or unto governors, as unto them that are sent by him for the punishment of evildoers, and for the praise of them that do well.
2:15: For so is the will of God, that with well doing ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men:
2:16: As free, and not using your liberty for a cloke of maliciousness, but as the servants of God.
2:17: Honour all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear GM
od. Honour the king.
2:18: Servants, be subject to your masters with all fear; not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward.
2:19: For this is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God endure grief, suffering wrongfully.
2:20: For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently? but if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.
2:21: For even hereunto were ye called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us aM
n example, that ye should follow his steps:
2:22: Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth:
2:23: Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously:
2:24: Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed.
2:25: For ye were as sheep going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls.
3:1: Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives;
3:2: While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear.
3:3: Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel;
3:4: But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight M
of God of great price.
3:5: For after this manner in the old time the holy women also, who trusted in God, adorned themselves, being in subjection unto their own husbands:
3:6: Even as Sara obeyed Abraham, calling him lord: whose daughters ye are, as long as ye do well, and are not afraid with any amazement.
3:7: Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered.
:8: Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous:
3:9: Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing: but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing.
3:10: For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile:
3:11: Let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace, and ensue it.
3:12: For the eyes of the Lord are over the M
righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers: but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil.
3:13: And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?
3:14: But and if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy are ye: and be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled;
3:15: But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear:
3:16: Having a good conscience; tM
hat, whereas they speak evil of you, as of evildoers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ.
3:17: For it is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for well doing, than for evil doing.
3:18: For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit:
3:19: By which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison;
3:20: Which sometime were disobedient, when once theM
 longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water.
3:21: The like figure whereunto even baptism doth also now save us (not the putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God,) by the resurrection of Jesus Christ:
3:22: Who is gone into heaven, and is on the right hand of God; angels and authorities and powers being made subject unto him.
4:1: Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered M
for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind: for he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin;
4:2: That he no longer should live the rest of his time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God.
4:3: For the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revellings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries:
4:4: Wherein they think it strange that ye run not with them to the same excessM
 of riot, speaking evil of you:
4:5: Who shall give account to him that is ready to judge the quick and the dead.
4:6: For for this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit.
4:7: But the end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer.
4:8: And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins.
4:9: Use hospitality one to anoM
ther without grudging.
4:10: As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.
4:11: If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as of the ability which God giveth: that God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
4:12: Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing haM
4:13: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.
4:14: If ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye; for the spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you: on their part he is evil spoken of, but on your part he is glorified.
4:15: But let none of you suffer as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evildoer, or as a busybody in other men's matters.
4:16: Yet if any man suffer as a ChristiaM
n, let him not be ashamed; but let him glorify God on this behalf.
4:17: For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God: and if it first begin at us, what shall the end be of them that obey not the gospel of God?
4:18: And if the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?
4:19: Wherefore let them that suffer according to the will of God commit the keeping of their souls to him in well doing, as unto a faithful Creator.
5:1: The elders which are among yoM
u I exhort, who am also an elder, and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory that shall be revealed:
5:2: Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind;
5:3: Neither as being lords over God's heritage, but being ensamples to the flock.
5:4: And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.
5:5: Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves uM
nto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.
5:6: Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time:
5:7: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.
5:8: Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:
5:9: Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplisheM
d in your brethren that are in the world.
5:10: But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.
5:11: To him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
5:12: By Silvanus, a faithful brother unto you, as I suppose, I have written briefly, exhorting, and testifying that this is the true grace of God wherein ye stand.
5:13: The church that is at Babylon, elected together with you, saluteth L
you; and so doth Marcus my son.
5:14: Greet ye one another with a kiss of charity. Peace be with you all that are in Christ Jesus. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life;
1:2: (For the life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and shew unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us;)
1:3: That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with M
us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.
1:4: And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full.
1:5: This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
1:6: If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth:
1:7: But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleansM
eth us from all sin.
1:8: If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.
1:9: If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
1:10: If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.
2:1: My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous:
2:2: And he is the propitiation forM
 our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.
2:3: And hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his commandments.
2:4: He that saith, I know him, and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.
2:5: But whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God perfected: hereby know we that we are in him.
2:6: He that saith he abideth in him ought himself also so to walk, even as he walked.
2:7: Brethren, I write no new commandment unto you, but an old coM
mmandment which ye had from the beginning. The old commandment is the word which ye have heard from the beginning.
2:8: Again, a new commandment I write unto you, which thing is true in him and in you: because the darkness is past, and the true light now shineth.
2:9: He that saith he is in the light, and hateth his brother, is in darkness even until now.
2:10: He that loveth his brother abideth in the light, and there is none occasion of stumbling in him.
2:11: But he that hateth his brother is in darkness, and waM
lketh in darkness, and knoweth not whither he goeth, because that darkness hath blinded his eyes.
2:12: I write unto you, little children, because your sins are forgiven you for his name's sake.
2:13: I write unto you, fathers, because ye have known him that is from the beginning. I write unto you, young men, because ye have overcome the wicked one. I write unto you, little children, because ye have known the Father.
2:14: I have written unto you, fathers, because ye have known him that is from the beginning. I havM
e written unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcome the wicked one.
2:15: Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.
2:16: For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.
2:17: And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.
:18: Little children, it is the last time: and as ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time.
2:19: They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us: but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us.
2:20: But ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things.
2:21: I have not written unto you because ye know not the truth, but M
because ye know it, and that no lie is of the truth.
2:22: Who is a liar but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ? He is antichrist, that denieth the Father and the Son.
2:23: Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father: (but) he that acknowledgeth the Son hath the Father also.
2:24: Let that therefore abide in you, which ye have heard from the beginning. If that which ye have heard from the beginning shall remain in you, ye also shall continue in the Son, and in the Father.
2:25: And this is the prM
omise that he hath promised us, even eternal life.
2:26: These things have I written unto you concerning them that seduce you.
2:27: But the anointing which ye have received of him abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you: but as the same anointing teacheth you of all things, and is truth, and is no lie, and even as it hath taught you, ye shall abide in him.
2:28: And now, little children, abide in him; that, when he shall appear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed before him at his coming.
29: If ye know that he is righteous, ye know that every one that doeth righteousness is born of him.
3:1: Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not.
3:2: Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.
3:3: And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth hiM
mself, even as he is pure.
3:4: Whosoever committeth sin transgresseth also the law: for sin is the transgression of the law.
3:5: And ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins; and in him is no sin.
3:6: Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not: whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him.
3:7: Little children, let no man deceive you: he that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous.
3:8: He that committeth sin is of the devil; for the devil sinneth from the beginning. For this pM
urpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil.
3:9: Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God.
3:10: In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil: whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother.
3:11: For this is the message that ye heard from the beginning, that we should love one another.
3:12: Not as Cain, who was of that wicked oM
ne, and slew his brother. And wherefore slew he him? Because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous.
3:13: Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you.
3:14: We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. He that loveth not his brother abideth in death.
3:15: Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer: and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.
3:16: Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay dowM
n our lives for the brethren.
3:17: But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?
3:18: My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.
3:19: And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him.
3:20: For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things.
3:21: Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, then havM
e we confidence toward God.
3:22: And whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight.
3:23: And this is his commandment, That we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as he gave us commandment.
3:24: And he that keepeth his commandments dwelleth in him, and he in him. And hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us.
4:1: Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try M
the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.
4:2: Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God:
4:3: And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world.
4:4: Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that iM
s in you, than he that is in the world.
4:5: They are of the world: therefore speak they of the world, and the world heareth them.
4:6: We are of God: he that knoweth God heareth us; he that is not of God heareth not us. Hereby know we the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error.
4:7: Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.
4:8: He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.
4:9: In this was manifested the love of God toward us, becauseM
 that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him.
4:10: Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.
4:11: Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.
4:12: No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.
4:13: Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit.
4:14: And we have seen and do M
testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world.
4:15: Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God.
4:16: And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.
4:17: Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment: because as he is, so are we in this world.
4:18: There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hM
ath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.
4:19: We love him, because he first loved us.
4:20: If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?
4:21: And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also.
5:1: Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God: and every one that loveth him that begat loveth him also that is begotten of him.M
5:2: By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God, and keep his commandments.
5:3: For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments: and his commandments are not grievous.
5:4: For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.
5:5: Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God?
5:6: This is he that came by water and blood, even Jesus Christ; not by water only, but by water M
and blood. And it is the Spirit that beareth witness, because the Spirit is truth.
5:7: For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one.
5:8: And there are three that bear witness in earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three agree in one.
5:9: If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater: for this is the witness of God which he hath testified of his Son.
5:10: He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witnM
ess in himself: he that believeth not God hath made him a liar; because he believeth not the record that God gave of his Son.
5:11: And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.
5:12: He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life.
5:13: These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the Son of God.
5:14: And this is thM
e confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us:
5:15: And if we know that he hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of him.
5:16: If any man see his brother sin a sin which is not unto death, he shall ask, and he shall give him life for them that sin not unto death. There is a sin unto death: I do not say that he shall pray for it.
5:17: All unrighteousness is sin: and there is a sin not unto death.
5:18: We know that whosoeveM
r is born of God sinneth not; but he that is begotten of God keepeth himself, and that wicked one toucheth him not.
5:19: And we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness.
5:20: And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true, and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.
5:21: Little children, keep yourselves from idols. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: Simon Peter, a servant and an apostle of Jesus Christ, to them that have obtained like precious faith with us through the righteousness of God and our Saviour Jesus Christ:
1:2: Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord,
1:3: According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glorM
1:4: Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust.
1:5: And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge;
1:6: And to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness;
1:7: And to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity.
1:8: For if these things be in you, and abound, theyM
 make you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
1:9: But he that lacketh these things is blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins.
1:10: Wherefore the rather, brethren, give diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall:
1:11: For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
 will not be negligent to put you always in remembrance of these things, though ye know them, and be established in the present truth.
1:13: Yea, I think it meet, as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance;
1:14: Knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath shewed me.
1:15: Moreover I will endeavour that ye may be able after my decease to have these things always in remembrance.
1:16: For we have not followed cunningly devised fableM
s, when we made known unto you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eyewitnesses of his majesty.
1:17: For he received from God the Father honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.
1:18: And this voice which came from heaven we heard, when we were with him in the holy mount.
1:19: We have also a more sure word of prophecy; whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, uM
ntil the day dawn, and the day star arise in your hearts:
1:20: Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation.
1:21: For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.
2:1: But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destM
2:2: And many shall follow their pernicious ways; by reason of whom the way of truth shall be evil spoken of.
2:3: And through covetousness shall they with feigned words make merchandise of you: whose judgment now of a long time lingereth not, and their damnation slumbereth not.
2:4: For if God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment;
2:5: And spared not the old world, but saved Noah the eighth person, a preacheM
r of righteousness, bringing in the flood upon the world of the ungodly;
2:6: And turning the cities of Sodom and Gomorrha into ashes condemned them with an overthrow, making them an ensample unto those that after should live ungodly;
2:7: And delivered just Lot, vexed with the filthy conversation of the wicked:
2:8: (For that righteous man dwelling among them, in seeing and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds;)
2:9: The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptationM
s, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished:
2:10: But chiefly them that walk after the flesh in the lust of uncleanness, and despise government. Presumptuous are they, selfwilled, they are not afraid to speak evil of dignities.
2:11: Whereas angels, which are greater in power and might, bring not railing accusation against them before the Lord.
2:12: But these, as natural brute beasts, made to be taken and destroyed, speak evil of the things that they understand not; and shall utterly periM
sh in their own corruption;
2:13: And shall receive the reward of unrighteousness, as they that count it pleasure to riot in the day time. Spots they are and blemishes, sporting themselves with their own deceivings while they feast with you;
2:14: Having eyes full of adultery, and that cannot cease from sin; beguiling unstable souls: an heart they have exercised with covetous practices; cursed children:
2:15: Which have forsaken the right way, and are gone astray, following the way of Balaam the son of Bosor, who lM
oved the wages of unrighteousness;
2:16: But was rebuked for his iniquity: the dumb ass speaking with man's voice forbad the madness of the prophet.
2:17: These are wells without water, clouds that are carried with a tempest; to whom the mist of darkness is reserved for ever.
2:18: For when they speak great swelling words of vanity, they allure through the lusts of the flesh, through much wantonness, those that were clean escaped from them who live in error.
2:19: While they promise them liberty, they themselves arM
e the servants of corruption: for of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage.
2:20: For if after they have escaped the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, they are again entangled therein, and overcome, the latter end is worse with them than the beginning.
2:21: For it had been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than, after they have known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered unto them.
2:22: But it is happened M
unto them according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his own vomit again; and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.
3:1: This second epistle, beloved, I now write unto you; in both which I stir up your pure minds by way of remembrance:
3:2: That ye may be mindful of the words which were spoken before by the holy prophets, and of the commandment of us the apostles of the Lord and Saviour:
3:3: Knowing this first, that there shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after theirM
3:4: And saying, Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation.
3:5: For this they willingly are ignorant of, that by the word of God the heavens were of old, and the earth standing out of the water and in the water:
3:6: Whereby the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished:
3:7: But the heavens and the earth, which are now, by the same word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the dayM
 of judgment and perdition of ungodly men.
3:8: But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.
3:9: The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
3:10: But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall mM
elt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.
3:11: Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness,
3:12: Looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat?
3:13: Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.
erefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, be diligent that ye may be found of him in peace, without spot, and blameless.
3:15: And account that the longsuffering of our Lord is salvation; even as our beloved brother Paul also according to the wisdom given unto him hath written unto you;
3:16: As also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things; in which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, unto their ownM2
3:17: Ye therefore, beloved, seeing ye know these things before, beware lest ye also, being led away with the error of the wicked, fall from your own stedfastness.
3:18: But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and for ever. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: The elder unto the elect lady and her children, whom I love in the truth; and not I only, but also all they that have known the truth;
1:2: For the truth's sake, which dwelleth in us, and shall be with us for ever.
1:3: Grace be with you, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, in truth and love.
1:4: I rejoiced greatly that I found of thy children walking in truth, as we have receivM
ed a commandment from the Father.
1:5: And now I beseech thee, lady, not as though I wrote a new commandment unto thee, but that which we had from the beginning, that we love one another.
1:6: And this is love, that we walk after his commandments. This is the commandment, That, as ye have heard from the beginning, ye should walk in it.
1:7: For many deceivers are entered into the world, who confess not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. This is a deceiver and an antichrist.
1:8: Look to yourselves, that we losM
e not those things which we have wrought, but that we receive a full reward.
1:9: Whosoever transgresseth, and abideth not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God. He that abideth in the doctrine of Christ, he hath both the Father and the Son.
1:10: If there come any unto you, and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house, neither bid him God speed:
1:11: For he that biddeth him God speed is partaker of his evil deeds.
1:12: Having many things to write unto you, I would not write with paper and ink: L
but I trust to come unto you, and speak face to face, that our joy may be full.
1:13: The children of thy elect sister greet thee. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: The elder unto the wellbeloved Gaius, whom I love in the truth.
1:2: Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.
1:3: For I rejoiced greatly, when the brethren came and testified of the truth that is in thee, even as thou walkest in the truth.
1:4: I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.
1:5: Beloved, thou doest faithfully whatsoever thou doest to theM
 brethren, and to strangers;
1:6: Which have borne witness of thy charity before the church: whom if thou bring forward on their journey after a godly sort, thou shalt do well:
1:7: Because that for his name's sake they went forth, taking nothing of the Gentiles.
1:8: We therefore ought to receive such, that we might be fellowhelpers to the truth.
1:9: I wrote unto the church: but Diotrephes, who loveth to have the preeminence among them, receiveth us not.
1:10: Wherefore, if I come, I will remember his deeds whichM
 he doeth, prating against us with malicious words: and not content therewith, neither doth he himself receive the brethren, and forbiddeth them that would, and casteth them out of the church.
1:11: Beloved, follow not that which is evil, but that which is good. He that doeth good is of God: but he that doeth evil hath not seen God.
1:12: Demetrius hath good report of all men, and of the truth itself: yea, and we also bear record; and ye know that our record is true.
1:13: I had many things to write, but I will notL
 with ink and pen write unto thee:
1:14: But I trust I shall shortly see thee, and we shall speak face to face. Peace be to thee. Our friends salute thee. Greet the friends by name.h!
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
Maybe I'm just a bizarre little person who walks back and forth.
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
by Fyodor Dostoevsky
It was a little before eight o'clock in the morning when Yakov Petrovitch Golyadkin, a titular councillor, woke up from a long sleep. He yawned, stretched, and at last opened his eyes completely. For two minutes, however, he lay in his bed without moving, as though he were not yet quite certain whether he were awake or still asleep, whether all that was going on around him were real and actual, or the continuation of his confused dreams. Very soon, however, Mr. GM
olyadkin's senses began more clearly and more distinctly to receive their habitual and everyday impressions. The dirty green, smoke-begrimed, dusty walls of his little room, with the mahogany chest of drawers and chairs, the table painted red, the sofa covered with American leather of a reddish colour with little green flowers on it, and the clothes taken off in haste overnight and flung in a crumpled heap on the sofa, looked at him familiarly. At last the damp autumn day, muggy and dirty, peeped into the room throM
ugh the dingy window pane with such a hostile, sour grimace that Mr. Golyadkin could not possibly doubt that he was not in the land of Nod, but in the city of Petersburg, in his own flat on the fourth storey of a huge block of buildings in Shestilavotchny Street. When he had made this important discovery Mr. Golyadkin nervously closed his eyes, as though regretting his dream and wanting to go back to it for a moment. But a minute later he leapt out of bed at one bound, probably all at once, grasping the idea about M
which his scattered and wandering thoughts had been revolving. From his bed he ran straight to a little round looking-glass that stood on his chest of drawers. Though the sleepy, short-sighted countenance and rather bald head reflected in the looking-glass were of such an insignificant type that at first sight they would certainly not have attracted particular attention in any one, yet the owner of the countenance was satisfied with all that he saw in the looking-glass. "What a thing it would be," said Mr. GolyadkiM
n in an undertone, "what a thing it would be if I were not up to the mark today, if something were amiss, if some intrusive pimple had made its appearance, or anything else unpleasant had happened; so far, however, there's nothing wrong, so far everything's all right."
Greatly relieved that everything was all right, Mr Golyadkin put the looking-glass back in its place and, although he had nothing on his feet and was still in the attire in which he was accustomed to go to bed, he ran to the little window and withM
 great interest began looking for something in the courtyard, upon which the windows of his flat looked out. Apparently what he was looking for in the yard quite satisfied him too; his face beamed with a self-satisfied smile. Then, after first peeping, however, behind the partition into his valet Petrushka's little room and making sure that Petrushka was not there, he went on tiptoe to the table, opened the drawer in it and, fumbling in the furthest corner of it, he took from under old yellow papers and all sorts oM
f rubbish a shabby green pocket-book, opened it cautiously, and with care and relish peeped into the furthest and most hidden fold of it. Probably the roll of green, grey, blue, red and particoloured notes looked at Golyadkin, too, with approval: with a radiant face he laid the open pocket-book before him and rubber his hands vigorously in token of the greatest satisfaction. Finally, he took it out - his comforting roll of notes - and, for the hundredth time since the previous day, counted them over, carefully smooM
thing out every note between his forefinger and his thumb.
"Seven hundred and fifty roubles in notes," he concluded at last, in a half-whisper. "Seven hundred and fifty roubles, a noteworthy sum! It's an agreeable sum," he went on, in a voice weak and trembling with gratification, as he pinched the roll with his fingers and smiled significantly; "it's a very agreeable sum! A sum agreeable to any one! I should like to see the man to whom that would be a trivial sum! There's no knowing what a man might not do withM
 a sum like that. . . . What's the meaning of it, though?" thought Mr. Golyadkin; "where's Petrushka?" And still in the same attire he peeped behind the partition again. Again there was no sign of Petrushka; and the samovar standing on the floor was beside itself, fuming and raging in solitude, threatening every minute to boil over, hissing and lisping in its mysterious language, to Mr. Golyadkin something like, "Take me, good people, I'm boiling and perfectly ready."
"Damn the fellow," thought Mr. Golyadkin. "TM
hat lazy brute might really drive a man out of all patience; where's he dawdling now?"
In just indignation he went out into the hall, which consisted of a little corridor at the end of which was a door into the entry, and saw his servant surrounded by a good-sized group of lackeys of all sorts, a mixed rabble from outside as well as from the flats of the house. Petrushka was telling something, the others were listening. Apparently the subject of the conversation, or the conversation itself, did not please Mr. GoM
lyadkin. He promptly called Petrushka and returned to his room, displeased and even upset. "That beast would sell a man for a halfpenny, and his master before any one," he thought to himself: "and he has sold me, he certainly has. I bet he has sold me for a farthing. Well?"
"They've brought the livery, sir."
"Put it on, and come here."
When he had put on his livery, Petrushka, with a stupid smile on his face, went in to his master. His costume was incredibly strange. He had on a much-worn green livery, witM
h frayed gold braid on it, apparently made for a man a yard taller than Petrushka. In his hand he had a hat trimmed with the same gold braid and with a feather in it, and at his hip hung a footman's sword in a leather sheath. Finally, to complete the picture, Petrushka, who always liked to be in neglig , was barefooted. Mr. Golyadkin looked at Petrushka from all sides and was apparently satisfied. The livery had evidently been hired for some solemn occasion. It might be observed, too, that during his master's inspeM
ction Petrushka watched him with strange expectance and with marked curiosity followed every movement he made, which extremely embarrassed Mr. Golyadkin.
"Well, and how about the carriage?"
"The carriage is here too."
"For the whole day?"
"For the whole day. Twenty five roubles."
"And have the boots been sent?"
"Dolt! can't even say, 'yes, sir.' Bring them here."
Expressing his satisfaction that the boots fitted, Mr. Golyadkin asked for his tea, and for water to wash and shave. He shaM
ved with great care and washed as scrupulously, hurriedly sipped his tea and proceeded to the principal final process of attiring himself: he put on an almost new pair of trousers; then a shirtfront with brass studs, and a very bright and agreeably flowered waistcoat; about his neck he tied a gay, particoloured cravat, and finally drew on his coat, which was also newish and carefully brushed. As he dressed, he more than once looked lovingly at his boots, lifted up first one leg and then the other, admired their shaM
pe, kept muttering something to himself, and from time to time made expressive grimaces. Mr. Golyadkin was, however, extremely absent-minded that morning, for he scarcely noticed the little smiles and grimaces made at his expanse by Petrushka, who was helping him dress. At last, having arranged everything properly and having finished dressing, Mr. Golyadkin put his pocket-book in his pocket, took a final admiring look at Petrushka, who had put on his boots and was therefore also quite ready, and, noticing that everM
ything was done and that there was nothing left to wait for, he ran hurriedly and fussily out on to the stairs, with a slight throbbing at his heart. the light-blue hired carriage with a crest on it rolled noisily up to the steps. Petrushka, winking to the driver and some of the gaping crowd, helped his master into the carriage; and hardly able to suppress an idiotic laugh, shouted in an unnatural voice: "Off!" jumped up on the footboard, and the whole turnout, clattering and rumbling noisily, rolled into the NevskM
y Prospect. As soon as the light-blue carriage dashed out of the gate, Mr. Golyadkin rubbed his hands convulsively and went off into a slow, noiseless chuckle, like a jubilant man who has succeeded in bringing off a splendid performance and is as pleased as Punch with the performance himself. Immediately after his access of gaiety, however, laughter was replaced by a strange and anxious expression on the face of Mr. Golyadkin. Though the weather was damp and muggy, he let down both windows of the carriage and beganM
 carefully scrutinizing the passers-by to left and to right, at once assuming a decorous and sedate air when he thought any one was looking at him. At the turning from Liteyny Street into the Nevsky Prospect he was startled by a most unpleasant sensation and, frowning like some poor wretch whose corn has been accidentally trodden on, he huddled with almost panic-stricken hast into the darkest corner of his carriage.
He had seen two of his colleagues, two young clerks serving in the same government department. ThM
e young clerks were also, it seemed to Mr. Golyadkin, extremely amazed at meeting their colleague in such a way; one of them, in fact, pointed him out to the other. Mr. Golyadkin even fancied that the other had actually called his name, which, of course, was very unseemly in the street. Our hero concealed himself and did not respond. "The silly youngsters!" he began reflecting to himself. "Why, what is there strange in it? A man in a carriage, a man needs to be in a carriage, and so he hires a carriage. They're simM
ply noodles! I know them - simply silly youngsters, who still need thrashing! They want to be paid a salary for playing pitch-farthing and dawdling about, that's all they're fit for. It'd let them all know, if only . . ."
Mr. Golyadkin broke off suddenly, petrified. A smart pair of Kazan horses, very familiar to Mr. Golyadkin, in a fashionable droshky, drove rapidly by on the right side of his carriage. The gentleman sitting in the droshky, happening to catch a glimpse of Mr. Golyadkin, who was rather incautiousM
ly poking his head out of the carriage window, also appeared to be extremely astonished at the unexpected meeting and, bending out as far as he could, looked with the greatest of curiosity and interest into the corner of the carriage in which our hero made haste to conceal himself. The gentleman in the droshky was Andrey Filippovitch, the head of the office in which Mr. Golyadkin served in the capacity of assistant to the chief clerk. Mr. Golyadkin, seeing that Andrey Filippovitch recognized him, that he was lookinM
g at him open-eyed and that it was impossible to hide, blushed up to her ears.
"Bow or not? Call back or not? Recognize him or not?" our hero wondered in indescribable anguish, "or pretend that I am not myself, but somebody else strikingly like me, and look as though nothing were the matter. Simply not I, not I - and that's all," said Mr. Golyadkin, taking off his hat to Andrey Filippovitch and keeping his eyes fixed upon him. "I'm . . . I'm all right," he whispered with an effort; "I'm . . . quite all right. ItM
's not I, it's not I - and that is the fact of the matter."
Soon, however, the droshky passed the carriage, and the magnetism of his chief's eyes was at an end. Yet he went on blushing, smiling and muttering something to himself. . .
"I was a fool not to call back," he thought at last. "I ought to have taken a bolder line and behaved with gentlemanly openness. I ought to have said 'This is how it is, Andrey Filippovitch, I'm asked to the dinner too,' and that's all it is!"
Then, suddenly recalling how takeM
n aback he had been, our hero flushed as hot as fire, frowned, and cast a terrible defiant glance at the front corner of the carriage, a glance calculated to reduce all his foes to ashes. At last, he was suddenly inspired to pull the cord attached to the driver's elbow, and stopped the carriage, telling him to drive back to Liteyny Street. The fact was, it was urgently necessary for Mr. Golyadkin, probably for the sake of his own peace of mind, to say something very interesting to his doctor, Krestyan Ivanovitch. AM
nd, though he had made Krestyan Ivanovitch's acquaintance quite recently, having, indeed, only paid him a single visit, and that one the previous week, to consult him about some symptom. but a doctor, as they say, is like a priest, and it would be stupid for him to keep out of sight, and, indeed, it was his duty to know his patients. "Will it be all right, though," our hero went on, getting out of the carriage at the door of a five-storey house in Liteyny Street, at which he had told the driver to stop the carriageM
: "Will it be all right? Will it be proper? Will it be appropriate? After all, though," he went on, thinking as he mounted the stairs out of breath and trying to suppress that beating of his heart, which had the habit of beating on all other people's staircases: "After all, it's on my own business and there's nothing reprehensible in it. . . . It would be stupid to keep out of sight. Why, of course, I shall behave as though I were quite all right, and have simply looked in as I passed. . . . He will see, that it's M
all just as it should be."
Reasoning like this, Mr. Golyadkin mounted to the second storey and stopped before flat number five, on which there was a handsome brass door-plate with the inscription -
KRESTYAN IVANOVITCH RUTENSPITZ
Doctor of Medicine and Surgery
Stopping at the door, our hero made haste to assume an air of propriety, ease, and even of a certain affability, and prepared to pull the bell. As he was about to do so he promptly and rather appropriately reflected that it might be better to come toM
-morrow, and that it was not very pressing for the moment. But as he suddenly heard footsteps on the stairs, he immediately changed his mind again and at once rang Krestyan Ivanovitch's bell - with an air, moreover, of great determination.
The doctor of medicine and surgery, Krestyan Ivanovitch Rutenspitz, a very hale though elderly man, with thick eyebrows and whiskers that were beginning to turn grey, eyes with an expressive gleam in them that looked capable of routing every disease, and, lastlM
y, with orders of some distinction on his breast, was sitting in his consulting-room that morning in his comfortable armchair. He was drinking coffee, which his wife had brought him with her own hand, smoking a cigar and from time to time writing prescriptions for his patients. After prescribing a draught for an old man who was suffering from haemorrhoids and seeing the aged patient out by the side door, Krestyan Ivanovitch sat down to await the next visitor.
Mr. Golyadkin walked in.
Apparently Krestyan IvanoM
vitch did not in the least expect nor desire to see Mr. Golyadkin, for he was suddenly taken aback for a moment, and his countenance unconsciously assumed a strange and, one may almost say, a displeased expression. As Mr. Golyadkin almost always turned up inappropriately and was thrown into confusion whenever he approached any one about his own little affairs, on this occasion, too, he was desperately embarrassed. Having neglected to get ready his first sentence, which was invariably a stumbling-block for him on suM
ch occasions, he muttered something - apparently an apology - and, not knowing what to do next, took a chair and sat down, but, realizing that he had sat down without being asked to do so, he was immediately conscious of his lapse, and made haste to efface his offence against etiquette and good breeding by promptly getting up again from the seat he had taken uninvited. Then, on second thoughts, dimly perceiving that he had committed two stupid blunders at once, he immediately decided to commit a third - that is, trM
ied to right himself, muttered something, smiled, blushed, was overcome with embarrassment, sank into expressive silence, and finally sat down for good and did not get up again. Only, to protect himself from all contingencies, he looked at the doctor with that defiant glare which had an extraordinary power of figuratively crushing Mr. Golyadkin's enemies and reducing them to ashes. This glance, moreover, expressed to the full Mr. Golyadkin's independence - that is, to speak plainly, the fat that Mr. Golyadkin was "M
all right," that he was "quite himself, like everybody else," and that there was "nothing wrong in his upper storey." Krestyan Ivanovitch coughed, cleared his throat, apparently in token of approval and assent to all this, and bent an inquisitorial interrogative gaze upon his visitor.
"I have come to trouble you a second time, Krestyan Ivanovitch," began Mr. Golyadkin, with a smile, "and now I venture to ask your indulgence a second time. . . ." He was obviously at a loss for words.
"H'm . . . Yes!" pronounceM
d Krestyan Ivanovitch, puffing out a spiral of smoke and putting down his cigar on the table, "but you must follow the treatment prescribed to you; I explained to you that what would be beneficial to your health is a change of habits. . . . Entertainment, for instance, and, well, friends - you should visit your acquaintances, and not be hostile to the bottle; and likewise keep cheerful company."
Mr. Golyadkin, still smiling, hastened to observe that he thought he was like every one else, that he lived by himselfM
, that he had entertainments like every one else . . . that, of course, he might go to the theatre, for he had the means like every one else, that he spent the day at the office and the evenings at home, that he was quite all right; he even observed, in passing, that he was, so far as he could see, as good as any one, that he lived at home, and finally, that he had Petrushka. At this point Mr. Golyadkin hesitated.
"H'm! no, that is not the order of proceeding that I want; and that is not at all what I would ask M
you. I am interested to know, in general, are you a great lover of cheerful company? Do you take advantages of festive occasions; and well, do you lead a melancholy or cheerful manner of life?"
"Krestyan Ivanovitch, I . . ."
"H'm! . . . I tell you," interrupted the doctor, "that you must have a radical change of life, must, in a certain sense, break in your character." (Krestyan Ivanovitch laid special stress on the word "break in," and paused for a moment with a very significant air.) "Must not shrink from gM
aiety, must visit entertainments and clubs, and in any case, be not hostile to the bottle. Sitting at home is not right for you . . . sitting at home is impossible for you."
"I like quiet, Krestyan Ivanovitch," said Mr. Golyadkin, with a significant look at the doctor and evidently seeking words to express his ideas more successfully: "In my flat there's only me and Petrushka. . . . I mean my man, Krestyan Ivanovitch. I mean to say, Krestyan Ivanovitch, that I go my way, my own way, Krestyan Ivanovitch. I keep mM
yself to myself, and so far as I can see am not dependent on any one. I go out for walks, too, Krestyan Ivanovitch."
"What? Yes! well, nowadays there's nothing agreeable in walking: the climate's extremely bad."
"Quite so, Krestyan Ivanovitch. Though I'm a peaceable man, Krestyan Ivanovitch, as I've had the honour of explaining to you already, yet my way lies apart, Krestyan Ivanovitch. The ways of life are manifold . . . I mean . . . I mean to say, Krestyan Ivanovitch. . . . Excuse me, Krestyan Ivanovitch, IM
've no great gift for eloquent speaking."
"H'm . . . you say . . ."
"I say, you must excuse me, Krestyan Ivanovitch, that as far as I can see I am no great hand at eloquence in speaking," Mr. Golyadkin articulated, stammering and hesitating, in a half-aggrieved voice. "In that respect, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I'm not quite like other people," he added, with a peculiar smile, "I can't talk much, and have never learnt to embellish my speech with literary graces. On the other hand, I cat, Krestyan Ivanovitch; on thM
e other hand, I act, Krestyan Ivanovitch."
"H'm . . . How's that . . . you act?" responded Krestyan Ivanovitch.
Then silence followed for half a minute. The doctor looked somewhat strangely and mistrustfully at his visitor. Mr. Golyadkin, for his part, too, stole a rather mistrustful glance at the doctor.
"Krestyan Ivanovitch," he began, going on again in the same tone as before, somewhat irritated and puzzled by the doctors extreme obstinacy: "I like tranquillity and not the noisy gaiety of the world. AmoM
ng them, I mean, in the noisy world, Krestyan Ivanovitch one must be able to polish the floor with one's boots . . ." (here Mr. Golyadkin made a slight scrape on the floor with his toe); "they expect it, and they expect puns too . . . one must know how to make a perfumed compliment . . . that's what they expect there. And I've not learnt to do it, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I've never learnt all those tricks, I've never had the time. I'm a simple person, and not ingenious, and I've no external polish. On that side I surrM
ender, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I lay down my arms, speaking in that sense."
All this Mr. Golyadkin pronounced with an air which made it perfectly clear that our hero was far from regretting that he was laying down his arms in that sense and that he had not learnt these tricks; quite the contrary, indeed. As Krestyan Ivanovitch listened to him, he looked down with a very unpleasant grimace on his face, seeming to have a presentiment of something. Mr. Golyadkin's tirade was followed by a rather long and significant sM
"You have, I think, departed a little from the subject," Krestyan Ivanovitch said at last, in a low voice: "I confess I cannot altogether understand you."
"I'm not a great hand at eloquent speaking, Krestyan Ivanovitch; I've had the honour to inform you, Krestyan Ivanovitch, already," said Mr. Golyadkin, speaking this time in a sharp and resolute tone.
"Krestyan Ivanovitch!" began Mr. Golyadkin again in a low but more significant voice in a somewhat solemn style and emphasizing everM
y point: "Krestyan Ivanovitch, when I came in here I began with apologies. I repeat the same thing again, and again ask for your indulgence. There's no need for me to conceal it, Krestyan Ivanovitch. I'm an unimportant man, as you know; but fortunately for me, I do not regret being an unimportant man. Quite the contrary, indeed, Krestyan Ivanovitch, and, to be perfectly frank, I'm proud that I'm not a great man but an unimportant man. I'm not one to intrigue and I'm proud of that too, I don't act on the sly, but opM
enly, without cunning, and although I could do harm too, and a great deal of harm, indeed, and know to whom and how to do it, Krestyan Ivanovitch, yet I won't sully myself, and in that sense I was my hands. In that sense, I say, I wash them, Krestyan Ivanovitch!" Mr. Golyadkin paused expressively for a moment; he spoke with mild fervour.
"I set to work, Krestyan Ivanovitch," our hero continued, "directly, openly, by no devious ways, for I disdain them, and leave them to others. I do not try to degrade those who M
are perhaps purer than you and I . . . that is, I mean, I and they, Krestyan Ivanovitch - I didn't mean you. I don't like insinuations; I've no taste for contemptible duplicity; I'm disgusted by slander and calumny. I only put on a mask at a masquerade, and don't wear one before people every day. I only ask you, Krestyan Ivanovitch, how you would revenge yourself upon your enemy, your most malignant enemy - the one you would consider such?" Mr. Golyadkin concluded with a challenging glance at Krestyan Ivanovitch.
Though Mr. Golyadkin pronounced this with the utmost distinctness and clearness, weighing his words with a self-confident air and reckoning on their probable effect, yet meanwhile he looked at Krestyan Ivanovitch with anxiety, with great anxiety, with extreme anxiety. Now he was all eyes: and timidly waited for the doctor's answer with irritable and agonized impatience. But to the perplexity and complete amazement of our hero, Krestyan Ivanovitch only muttered something to himself; then he moved his armchair up tM
o the table, and rather drily though politely announced something to the effect that his time was precious, and that he did not quite understand; that he was ready, however, to attend to him as far as he was able, but he wold not go into anything further that did not concern him. At this point he took the pen, drew a piece of paper towards him, cut out of it the usual long strip, and announced that he would immediately prescribe what was necessary.
"No, it's not necessary, Krestyan Ivanovitch! No, that's not necM
essary at all!" said Mr. Golyadkin, getting up from his seat, and clutching Krestyan Ivanovitch's right hand. "That isn't what's wanted, Krestyan Ivanovitch."
And, while he said this, a queer change came over him. His grey eyes gleamed strangely, his lips began to quiver, all the muscles, all the features of his face began moving and working. He was trembling all over. After stopping the doctor's hand, Mr. Golyadkin followed his first movement by standing motionless, as though he had no confidence in himself andM
 were waiting for some inspiration for further action.
Then followed a rather strange scene.
Somewhat perplexed, Krestyan Ivanovitch seemed for a moment rooted to his chair and gazed open-eyed in bewilderment at Mr. Golyadkin, who looked at him in exactly the same way. At last Krestyan Ivanovitch stood up, gently holding the lining of Mr. Golyadkin's coat. For some seconds they both stood like that, motionless, with their eyes fixed on each other. Then, however, in an extraordinarily strange way came Mr. GolyM
adkin's second movement. His lips trembled, his chin began twitching, and our hero quite unexpectedly burst into tears. Sobbing, shaking his head and striking himself on the chest with his right hand, while with his left clutching the lining of the doctor's coat, he tried to say something and to make some explanation but could not utter a word.
At last Krestyan Ivanovitch recovered from his amazement.
"Come, calm yourself!" he brought out at last, trying to make Mr. Golyadkin sit down in an armchair.
ve enemies, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I have enemies; I have malignant enemies who have sworn to ruin me . . ." Mr Golyadkin answered in a frightened whisper.
"Come, come, why enemies? you mustn't talk about enemies! You really mustn't. Sit down, sit down," Krestyan Ivanovitch went on, getting Mr. Golyadkin once and for all into the armchair.
Mr. Golyadkin sat down at last, still keeping his eyes fixed on the doctor. With an extremely displeased air, Krestyan Ivanovitch strode from one end of the room to another. M
A long silence followed.
"I'm grateful to you, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I'm very grateful, and I'm very sensible of all you've done for me now. To my dying day I shall never forget your kindness, Krestyan Ivanovitch," said Mr. Golyadkin, getting up from his seat with an offended air.
"Come, give over! I tell you, give over!" Krestyan Ivanovitch responded rather sternly to Mr. Golyadkin's outburst, making him sit down again.
"Well , what's the matter? Tell me what is unpleasant," Krestyan Ivanovitch went on, "aM
nd what enemies are you talking about? What is wrong?"
"No, Krestyan Ivanovitch we'd better leave that now," answered Mr. Golyadkin, casting down his eyes; "let us put all that aside for the time. . . . Till another time, Krestyan Ivanovitch, till a more convenient moment, when everything will be discovered and the mask falls off certain faces, and something comes to light. But, meanwhile, now, of course, after what has passed between us . . . you will agree yourself, Krestyan Ivanovitch. . . . Allow me to wish M
you good morning, Krestyan Ivanovitch," said Mr. Golyadkin, getting up gravely and resolutely and taking his hat.
"Oh, well . . . as you like . . . h'm . . ." (A moment of silence followed.) "For my part, you know . . . whatever I can do . . . and I sincerely wish you well."
"I understand you, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I understand: I understand you perfectly now . . . In any case excuse me for having troubled you, Krestyan Ivanovitch."
"H'm, no, I didn't mean that. However, as you please; go on taking the mediM
cines as before. . . ."
"I will go with the medicines as you say, Krestyan Ivanovitch. I will go on with them, and I will get them at the same chemist's . . . To be a chemist nowadays, Krestyan Ivanovitch, is an important business. . . ."
"How so? In what sense do you mean?"
"In a very ordinary sense, Krestyan Ivanovitch. I mean to say that nowadays that's the way of the world. . ."
"And that every silly youngster, not only a chemist's boy turns up his nose at respectable people."
 How do you understand that?"
"I'm speaking of a certain person, Krestyan Ivanovitch . . . of a common acquaintance of ours, Krestyan Ivanovitch, of Vladimir Semyonovitch . . ."
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch: and I know certain people, Krestyan Ivanovitch, who didn't keep to the general rule of telling the truth, sometimes."
"Why, yes, it is so: but that's neither here nor there: they sometimes manage to serve you up a fine egg in gravy."
"What? Serve up what?"
 Krestyan Ivanovitch. It's a Russian saying. They know how to congratulate some one the right moment, for instance; there are people like that."
"Yes, congratulate, Krestyan Ivanovitch, as some one I know very well did the other day!" . . .
"Some one you know very well . . . Ah! how was that?" said Krestyan Ivanovitch, looking attentively at Mr. Golyadkin.
"Yes, some one I know very well indeed congratulated some one else I know very well - and, what's more, a comrade, a friend of his heM
art, on his promotion, on his receiving the rank of assessor. This was how it happened to come up: 'I am exceedingly glad of the opportunity to offer you, Vladimir Semyonovitch, my congratulations, my sincere congratulations, on your receiving the rank of assessor. And I'm the more please, as all the world knows that there are old women nowadays who tell fortunes.'"
At this point Mr. Golyadkin gave a sly nod, and screwing up his eyes, looked at Krestyan Ivanovitch . . .
"H'm. So he said that. . . ."
d, Krestyan Ivanovitch, he said it and glanced at once at Andrey Filippovitch, the uncle of out Prince Charming, Vladimir Semyonovitch. But what is it to me, Krestyan Ivanovitch, that he has been made an assessor? What is it to me? And he wants to get married and the milk is scarcely dry on his lips, if I may be allowed the expression. And I said as much. Vladimir Semyonovitch, said I! I've said everything now; allow me to withdraw."
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch, all me now, I say, to withdraw. But, M
to kill two birds with one stone, as I twitted our young gentleman with the old women, I turned to Klara Olsufyevna (it all happened the same day, before yesterday at Olsufy Ivanovitch's), and she had only just sung a song with feeling, 'You've sung songs of feeling, madam,' said I, 'but they've not been listened to with a pure heart.' And by that I hinted plainly, Krestyan Ivanovitch, hinted plainly, that they were not running after her now, but looking higher . . ."
"Ah! And what did he say?"
the pill, Krestyan Ivanovitch, as the saying is."
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch. To the old man himself, too, I said, 'Olsufy Ivanovitch,' said I, 'I know how much I'm indebted to you, I appreciate to the full all the kindness you've showered upon me from my childhood up. But open your eyes, Olsufy Ivanovitch,' I said. 'Look about you. I myself do things openly and aboveboard, Olsufy Ivanovitch.'"
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch. Really . . ."
"Yes, what, indeed,M
 Krestyan Ivanovitch? He mumbled one thing and another, and 'I know you,' and that 'his Excellency was a benevolent man' - he rambled on . . . But, there, you know! he's begun to be a bit shaky, as they say, with old age."
"Ah! So that's how it is now . . ."
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch. And that's how we all are! Poor old man! He looks towards the grave, breathes incense, as they say, while they concoct a piece of womanish gossip and he listens to it; without him they wouldn't . . ."
es, Krestyan Ivanovitch, they've concocted a womanish scandal. Our bear, too, had a finger in it, and his nephew, our Prince Charming. They've joined hands with the old women and, of course, they've concocted the affair. Would you believe it? They plotted the murder of some one! . . ."
"The murder of some one?"
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch, the moral murder of some one. They spread about . . . I'm speaking of a man I know very well."
Krestyan Ivanovitch nodded.
"They spread rumours about him . . . I confesM
s I'm ashamed to repeat them, Krestyan Ivanovitch."
"They spread a rumour that he had signed a promise to marry though he was already engaged in another quarter . . . and would you believe it, Krestyan Ivanovitch, to whom?"
"To a cook, to a disreputable German woman from whom he used to get his dinners; instead of paying what he owed, he offered her his hand."
"Is that what they say?"
"Would you believe it, Krestyan Ivanovitch? A low German, a nasty shameless German, KarolinM
a Ivanovna, if you know . . ."
"I confess, for my part . . ."
"I understand you, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I understand, and for my part I feel it . . ."
"Tell me, please, where are you living now?"
"Where am I living now, Krestyan Ivanovitch?"
"Yes . . . I want . . . I believe you used to live . . ."
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I did, I used to. To be sure I lived!" answered Mr. Golyadkin, accompanying his words with a little laugh, and somewhat disconcerting Krestyan Ivanovitch by his answer.
you misunderstood me; I meant to say . . ."
"I, too, meant to say, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I meant it too," Mr. Golyadkin continued, laughing. "But I've kept you far too long, Krestyan Ivanovitch. I hope you will allow me now, to wish you good morning."
"Yes, Krestyan Ivanovitch, I understand you; I fully understand you now," said our hero, with a slight flourish before Krestyan Ivanovitch. "And so permit me to wish you good morning . . ."
At this point our hero made a scraping with the toe of M
his boot and walked out of the room, leaving Krestyan Ivanovitch in the utmost amazement. As he went down the doctor's stairs he smiled and rubbed his hands gleefully. On the steps, breathing the fresh air and feeling himself at liberty, he was certainly prepared to admit that he was the happiest of mortals, and thereupon to go straight to his office - when suddenly his carriage rumbled up to the door: he glanced at it and remembered everything. Petrushka was already opening the carriage door. Mr. Golyadkin was comM
pletely overwhelmed by a strong and unpleasant sensation. He blushed, as it were, for a moment. Something seemed to stab him. He was just about to raise his foot to the carriage step when he suddenly turned round and looked towards Krestyan Ivanovitch's window. Yes, it was so! Krestyan Ivanovitch was standing at the window, was stroking his whiskers with his right hand and staring with some curiosity at the hero of out story.
"That doctor is silly," thought Mr. Golyadkin, huddling out of sight in the carriage; "M
extremely silly. He may treat his patients all right, but still . . . he's as stupid as a post."
Mr. Golyadkin sat down, Petrushka shouted "Off!" and the carriage rolled towards Nevsky Prospect again.
All that morning was spent by Mr. Golyadkin in a strange bustle of activity. On reaching the Nevsky Prospect our hero told the driver to stop at the bazaar. Skipping out of his carriage, he ran to the Arcade, accompanied by Petrushka, and went straight to a shop where gold and silver articles weM
re for sale. One could see from his very air that he was overwhelmed with business and had a terrible amount to do. Arranging to purchase a complete dinner- and tea-service for fifteen hundred roubles and including in the bargain for that sum a cigar-case of ingenious form and a silver shaving-set, and finally, asking the price of some other articles, useful and agreeable in their own way, he ended by promising to come without fail next day, or to send for his purchases the same day. He took the number of the shop,M
 and listening attentively to the shopkeeper, who was very pressing for a small deposit, said that he should have it all in good time. After which he took leave of the amazed shopkeeper and, followed by a regular flock of shopmen, walked along the Arcade, continually looking round at Petrushka and diligently seeking our fresh shops. On the way he dropped into a money-changer's and changed all his big notes into small ones, and though he lost on the exchange, his pocket-book was considerably fatter, which evidently M
afforded him extreme satisfaction. Finally, he stopped at a shop for ladies' dress materials. Here, too, after deciding to purchase good for a considerable sum, Mr. Golyadkin promised to come again, took the number of the shop and, on being asked for a deposit, assured the shopkeeper that "he should have a deposit too, all in good time." Then he visited several other shops, making purchases in each of them, asked the price of various things, sometimes arguing a long time with the shopkeeper, going out of the shop aM
nd returning two or three times - in fact he displayed exceptional activity. From the Arcade our hero went to a well-known furniture shop, where he ordered furniture for six rooms; he admired a fashionable and very toilet table for ladies' use in the latest style, and, assuring the shopkeeper than he would certainly send for all these things, walked out of the shop, as usual promising a deposit. then he went off somewhere else and ordered something more. In short, there seemed to be no end to the business he had toM
 get through. At last, Mr. Golyadkin seemed to grow heartily sick of it all, and he began, goodness knows why, to be tormented by the stings of conscience. Nothing would have induced him now, for instance, to meet Andrey Filippovitch, or even Krestyan Ivanovitch.
At last, the town clock struck three. When Mr. Golyadkin finally took his seat in the carriage, of all the purchases he had made that morning he had, it appeared, in reality only got a pair of gloves and a bottle of scent, that cost a rouble and a half.M
 As it was still rather early, he ordered his coachman to stop near a well-known restaurant in Nevsky Prospect which he only knew by reputation, got out of the carriage, and hurried in to have a light lunch, to rest and to wait for the hour fixed for the dinner.
Lunching as a man lunches who has the prospect before him of going out to a sumptuous dinner, that is, taking a snack of something in order to still the pangs, as they say, and drinking one small glass of vodka, Mr. Golyadkin established himself in an arM
mchair and, modestly looking about him, peacefully settled down to an emaciated nationalist paper. After reading a couple of lines he stood up and looked in the looking-glass, set himself to rights and smoothed himself down; then he went to the window and looked to see whether his carriage was there . . . then he sat down again in his place and took up the paper. It was noticeable that our hero was in great excitement. Glancing at his watch and seeing that it was only a quarter past three and that he had consequentM
ly a good time to wait and, at the same time, opining that to sit like that was unsuitable, Mr. Golyadkin ordered chocolate, though he felt no particular inclination for it at the moment. Drinking the chocolate and noticing that the time had moved on a little, he went up to pay his bill.
He turned round and saw facing him two of his colleagues, the same two he had met that morning in Liteyny Street, - young men, very much his juniors both in age and rank. Our hero's relations with them were neither one thing norM
 the other, neither particularly friendly nor openly hostile. Good manners were, of course, observed on both sides: there was no closer intimacy, nor could there be. The meeting at this moment was extremely distasteful to Mr. Golyadkin. He frowned a little, and was disconcerted for an instant.
"Yakov Petrovitch, Yakov Petrovitch!" chirped the two register clerks; "you here? what brings you? . . ."
"Ah, it is you, gentlemen," Mr. Golyadkin interrupted hurriedly, somewhat embarrassed and scandalized by the amazM
ement of the clerks and by the abruptness of their address, but feeling obliged, however, to appear jaunty and free and easy. "You've deserted gentlemen, he-he-he . . ." Then, to keep up his dignity and to condescend to the juveniles, with whom he never overstepped certain limits, he attempted to slap one of the youths on the shoulder; but this effort at good fellowship did not succeed and, instead of being a well-bred little jest, produced quite a different effect.
"Well, and our bear, is he still at the officeM
"Who's that, Yakov Petrovitch?"
"Why, the bear. Do you mean to say you don't know whose name that is? . . ." Mr. Golyadkin laughed and turned to the cashier to take his change.
"I mean Andrey Filippovitch, gentlemen," he went on, finishing with the cashier, and turning to the clerks this time with a very serious face. The two register clerks winked at one another.
"He's still at the office and asking for you, Yakov Petrovitch," answered one of them.
"At the office, eh! In that case, let him stay, M
gentlemen. And asking for me, eh?"
"He was asking for you, Yakov Petrovitch; but what's up with you, scented, pomaded, and such a swell? . . ."
"Nothing, gentlemen, nothing! that's enough," answered Mr. Golyadkin, looking away with a constrained smile.
Seeing that Mr. Golyadkin was smiling, the clerks laughed aloud. Mr. Golyadkin was a little offended.
"I'll tell you as friends, gentlemen," our hero said, after a brief silence, as though making up his mind (which, indeed, was the case) to reveal somethiM
ng to them. "You all know me, gentlemen, but hitherto you've known me only on one side. no one is to blame for that and I'm conscious that the fault has been partly my own."
Mr. Golyadkin pursed his lips and looked significantly at the clerks. The clerks winked at one another again.
"Hitherto, gentlemen, you have not known me. To explain myself here and now would not be appropriate. I will only touch on it lightly in passing. There are people, gentlemen, who dislike roundabout ways and only mask themselves atM
 masquerades. There are people who do not see man's highest avocation in polishing the floor with their boots. There are people, gentlemen, who refuse to say that they are happy and enjoying a full life when, for instance, their trousers set properly. There are people, finally, who dislike dashing and whirling about for no object, fawning, and licking the dust, and above all, gentlemen, poking their noses where they are not wanted. . . I've told you almost everything, gentlemen; now allow me to withdraw. . ."
. Golyadkin paused. As the register clerks had not got all that they wanted, both of them with great incivility burst into shouts of laughter. Mr. Golyadkin flared up.
"Laugh away, gentlemen, laugh away for the time being! If you live long enough you will see," he said, with a feeling of offended dignity, taking his hat and retreating to the door.
"But I will say more, gentlemen," he added, turning for the last time to the register clerks, "I will say more - you are both here with me face to face. This, gentlM
emen, is my rule: if I fail I don't lose heart, if I succeed I persevere, and in any case I am never underhand. I'm not one to intrigue - and I'm proud of it. I've never prided myself on diplomacy. They say, too, gentlemen, that the bird flies itself to the hunter. It's true and I'm ready to admit it; but who's the hunter, and who's the bird in this case? That is still the question, gentlemen!"
Mr. Golyadkin subsided into eloquent silence, and, with a most significant air, that is, pursing up his lips and raisinM
g his eyebrows as high as possible, he bowed to the clerks and walked out, leaving them in the utmost amazement.
"What are your orders now?" Petrushka asked, rather gruffly; he was probably weary of hanging about in the cold. "What are your orders?" he asked Mr. Golyadkin, meeting the terrible, withering glance with which our hero had protected himself twice already that morning, and to which he had recourse now for the third time as he came down the steps.
"To Ismailovsky Bridge."
"To Ismailovsky Bridge! M
"Their dinner will not begin till after four, or perhaps five o'clock," thought Mr. Golyadkin; "isn't it early now? However, I can go a little early; besides, it's only a family dinner. And so I can go sans facons, as they say among well-bred people. Why shouldn't I go sans facons? The bear told us, too, that it would all be sans facons, and so I will be the same. . . ." Such were Mr. Golyadkin's reflections and meanwhile his excitement grew more and more acute. It could be seen that he was preparing himseM
lf for some great enterprise, to say nothing more; he muttered to himself, gesticulated with his right hand, continually looked out of his carriage window, so that, looking at Mr. Golyadkin, no one would have said that he was on his way to a good dinner, and only a simple dinner in his family circle - sans facons, as they say among well-bred people. Finally, just at Ismailovsky Bridge, Mr. Golyadkin pointed out a house; and the carriage rolled up noisily and stopped at the first entrance on the right. Noticing a feM
minine figure at the second storey window, Mr. Golyadkin kissed his hand to her. He had, however, not the slightest idea what he was doing, for he felt more dead than alive at the moment. He got out of the carriage pale, distracted; he mounted the steps, took off his hat, mechanically straightened himself, and though he felt a slight trembling in his knees, he went upstairs.
"Olsufy Ivanovitch?" he inquired of the man who opened the door.
"At home, sir; at least he's not at home, his honour is not at home."
"What? What do you mean, my good man? I-I've come to dinner, brother. Why, you know me?"
"To be sure I know you! I've orders not to admit you."
"You . . . you, brother . . . you must be making a mistake. It's I, my boy, I'm invited; I've come to dinner," Mr. Golyadkin announced, taking off his coat and displaying unmistakable intentions of going into the room.
"Allow me, sir, you can't, sir. I've orders not to admit you. I've orders to refuse you. That's how it is."
Mr. Golyadkin turned pale. At that M
very moment the door of the inner room opened and Gerasimitch, Olsufy Ivanovitch's old butler, came out.
"You see the gentlemen wants to go in, Emelyan Gerasimitch, and I . . ."
"And you're a fool, Alexeitch. Go inside and send the rascal Semyonovitch here. It's impossible," he said politely but firmly, addressing Mr. Golyadkin. "It's quite impossible. His honour begs you to excuse him; he can't see you."
"He said he couldn't see me?" Mr. Golyadkin asked uncertainly. "Excuse me, Gerasimitch, why is it impoM
"It's quite impossible. I've informed your honour; they said 'Ask him to excuse us.' They can't see you."
"Why not? How's that? Why."
"Allow me, allow me! . . ."
"How is it though? It's out of the question! Announce me . . . How is it? I've come to dinner. . ."
"Excuse me, excuse me . . ."
"Ah, well, that's a different matter, they asked to be excused: but, allow me, Gerasimitch; how is it, Gerasimitch?"
"Excuse me, excuse me! replied Gerasimitch, very firmly putting away Mr. GolyadkinM
's hand and making way for two gentlemen who walked into the entry that very instant. The gentlemen in question were Andrey Filippovitch and his nephew Vladimir Semyonovitch. Both of the looked with amazement at Mr. Golyadkin. Andrey Filippovitch seemed about to say something, but Mr. Golyadkin had by now made up his mind: he was by now walking out of Olsufy Ivanovitch's entry, blushing and smiling, with eyes cast down and a countenance of helpless bewilderment. "I will come afterwards, Gerasimitch; I will explain M
myself: I hope that all this will without delay be explained in due season. . . ."
"Yakov Petrovitch, Yakov Petrovitch . . ." He heard the voice of Andrey Filippovitch following him.
Mr. Golyadkin was by that time on the first landing. He turned quickly to Andrey Filippovitch.
"What do you desire, Andrey Filippovitch?" he said in a rather resolute voice.
"What's wrong with you, Yakov Petrovitch? In what way?"
"No matter, Andrey Filippovitch. I'm on my own account here. This is my private life, AndreyM
"I say, Andrey Filippovitch, that this is my private life, and as for my being here, as far as I can see, there's nothing reprehensible to be found in it as regards my official relations."
"What! As regards your official . . . What's the matter with you, my good sir?"
"Nothing, Andrey Filippovitch, absolutely nothing; an impudent slut of a girl, and nothing more . . ."
"What! What?" Andrey Filippovitch was stupefied with amazement. Mr. Golyadkin, who had up till then loM
oked as though he would fly into Andrey Filippovitch's face, seeing that the head of his office was laughing a little, almost unconsciously took a step forward. Andrey Filippovitch jumped back. Mr. Golyadkin went up one step and then another. Andrey Filippovitch looked about him uneasily. Mr. Golyadkin mounted the stairs rapidly. Still more rapidly Andrey Filippovitch darted into the flat and slammed the door after him. Mr. Golyadkin was left alone. Everything grew dark before his eyes. He was utterly nonplussed, aM
nd stood now in a sort of senseless hesitation, as though recalling something extremely senseless, too, that had happened quite recently. "Ech, ech!" he muttered, smiling with constraint. Meanwhile, there came the sounds of steps and voices on the stairs, probably of other guests invited by Olsufy Ivanovitch. Mr. Golyadkin recovered himself to some extent; put up his racoon collar, concealing himself behind it as far as possible, and began going downstairs with rapid little steps, tripping and stumbling in his hastM
e. He felt overcome by a sort of weakness and numbness. His confusion was such that, when he came out on the steps, he did not even wait for his carriage but walked across the muddy court to it. When he reached his carriage and was about to get into it, Mr. Golyadkin inwardly uttered a desire to sink into the earth, or to hide in a mouse hole together with his carriage. It seemed to him that everything in Olsufy Ivanovitch's house was looking at him now out of every window. He knew that he would certainly die on thM
e spot if he were to go back.
"What are you laughing at, blockhead?" he said in a rapid mutter to Petrushka, who was preparing to help him into the carriage.
"What should I laugh at? I'm not doing anything; where are we to drive to now?"
"Go home, drive on. . . ."
"Home, off!" shouted Petrushka, climbing on to the footboard.
"What a crow's croak!" thought Mr. Golyadkin. Meanwhile, the carriage had driven a good distance from Ismailovsky Bridge. Suddenly our hero pulled the cord with all his might andM
 shouted to the driver to turn back at once. The coachman turned his horses and within two minutes was driving into Olsufy Ivanovitch's yard again.
"Don't, don't, you fool, back!" shouted Mr. Golyadkin - and, as though he were expecting this order, the driver made no reply but, without stopping at the entrance, drove all round the courtyard and out into the street again.
Mr. Golyadkin did not drive home, but, after passing the Semyonovsky Bridge, told the driver to return to a side street and stop near a restM
aurant of rather modest appearance. Getting out of the carriage, our hero settled up with the driver and so got rid of his equipage at last. He told Petrushka to go home and await his return, while he went into the restaurant, took a private room and ordered dinner. He felt very ill and his brain was in the utmost confusion and chaos. For a long time he walked up and down the room in agitation; at last he sat down in a chair, propped his brow in his hands and began doing his very utmost to consider and settle sometM
hing relating to his present position.
That day the birthday of Klara Olsufyevna, the only daughter of the civil councillor, Berendyev, at one time Mr. Golyadkin's benefactor and patron, was being celebrated by a brilliant and sumptuous dinner-party, such as had not been seen for many a long day within the walls of the flats in the neighbourhood of Ismailovsky Bridge - a dinner more like some Balthazar's feast, with a suggestion of something Babylonian in its brilliant luxury and style, with VeuvM
e-Clicquot champagne, with oysters and fruit from Eliseyev's and Milyutin's, with all sorts of fatted calves, and all grades of the government service. This festive day was to conclude with a brilliant ball, a small birthday ball, but yet brilliant in its taste, its distinction and its style. Of course, I am willing to admit that similar balls do happen sometimes, though rarely. Such balls, more like family rejoicings than balls, can only be given in such houses as that of the civil councillor, Berendyev. I will saM
y more: I even doubt if such balls could be given in the houses of all civil councillors.
Oh, if I were a poet! such as Homer or Pushkin, I mean, of course; with any lesser talent one would not venture - I should certainly have painted all that glorious day for you, oh, my readers, with a free brush and brilliant colours! Yes, I should begin my poem with my dinner, I should lay special stress on that striking and solemn moment when the first goblet was raised to the honour of the queen of the fete. I should descM
ribe to you the guests plunged in a reverent silence and expectation, as eloquent as the rhetoric of Demosthenes; I should describe for you, then, how Andrey Filippovitch, having as the eldest of the guests some right to take precedence, adorned with his grey hairs and the orders what well befit grey hairs, got up from his seat and raised above his head the congratulatory glass of sparkling wine - brought from a distant kingdom to celebrate such occasions and more like heavenly nectar than plain wine. I would portrM
ay for you the guests and the happy parents raising their glasses, too, after Andrey Filippovitch, and fastening upon him eyes full of expectation. I would describe for you how the same Andrey Filippovitch, so often mentioned, after dropping a tear in his glass, delivered his congratulations and good wishes, proposed the toast and drank the health . . . but I confess, I freely confess, that I could not do justice to the solemn moment when the queen of the fete, Klara Olsufyevna, blushing like a rose in spring, withM
 the glow of bliss and of modesty, was so overcome by her feelings that she sank into the arms of her tender mamma; how that tender mamma shed tears, and how the father, Olsufy Ivanovitch, a hale old man and a privy councillor, who had lost the use of his legs in his long years of service and been rewarded by destiny for his devotion with investments, a house, some small estates, and a beautiful daughter, sobbed like a little child and announced through his tears that his Excellency was a benevolent man.
 not, I positively could not, describe the enthusiasm that followed that moment in every heart, an enthusiasm clearly evinced in the conduct of a youthful register clerk (though at that moment he was more like a civil councillor than a register clerk), who was moved to tears, too, as he listened to Andrey Filippovitch. In his turn, too, Andrey Filippovitch was in that solemn moment quite unlike a collegiate councillor and the head of an office in the department - yes, he was something else . . . what, exactly, I doM
 not know, but not a collegiate councillor. He was more exalted!
Finally . . . Oh, why do I not possess the secret of lofty, powerful language, of the sublime style, to describe these grand and edifying moments of human life, which seem created expressly to prove that virtue sometimes triumphs over ingratitude, free-thinking, vice and envy! I will say nothing, but in silence - which will be better than any eloquence - I will point to that fortunate youth, just entering on his twenty-sixth spring - to Vladimir SeM
myonovitch, Andrey Filippovitch's nephew, who in his turn now rose from his seat, who in his turn proposed a toast, and upon whom were fastened the tearful eyes of the parents, the proud eyes of Andrey Filippovitch, the modest eyes of the queen of the fete, the solemn eyes of the guests and even the decorously envious eyes of some of the young man's youthful colleagues. I will say nothing of that, though I cannot refrain from observing that everything in that young man - who was, indeed, speaking in a complimentaryM
 sense, more like an elderly than a young man - everything, from his blooming cheeks to his assessorial rank seemed almost to proclaim aloud the lofty pinnacle a man can attain through morality and good principles! I will not describe how Anton Antonovitch Syetotochkin, a little old man as grey as a badger, the head clerk of a department, who was a colleague of Andrey Filippovitch's and had once been also of Olsufy Ivanovitch's, and was an old friend of the family and Klara Olsufyevna's godfather, in his turn propoM
sed a toast, crowed like a cock, and cracked many little jokes; how by this extremely proper breach of propriety, if one may use such an expression, he made the whole company laugh till they cried, and how Klara Olsufyevna, at her parents' bidding, rewarded him for his jocularity and politeness with a kiss. I will only say that the guests, who must have felt like kinsfolk and brothers after such a dinner, at last rose from the table, and the elderly and more solid guests, after a brief interval spent in friendly coM
nversation, interspersed with some candid, though, of course, very polite and proper observations, went decorously into the next room and, without losing valuable time, promptly divided themselves up into parties and, full of the sense of their own dignity, installed themselves at tables covered with green baize.
Meanwhile, the ladies established in the drawing-room suddenly became very affable and began talking about dress-materials. And the venerable host, who had lost the use of his legs in the service of loyM
alty and religion, and had been rewarded with all the blessings we have enumerated above, began walking about on crutches among his guests, supported by Vladimir Semyonovitch and Klara Olsufyevna, and he, too, suddenly becoming extremely affable, decided to improvise a modest little dance, regardless of expense; to that end a nimble youth (the one who was more like a civil councillor than a youth) was despatched to fetch musicians, and musicians to the number of eleven arrived, and exactly at half-past eight struckM
 up the inviting strains of a French quadrille, followed by various other dances. . . . It is needless to say that my pen is too weak, dull, and spiritless to describe the dance that owed its inspiration to the genial hospitality of the grey-headed host. And how, I ask, can the modest chronicler of Mr. Golyadkin's adventures, extremely interesting as they are in their own way, how can I depict the choice and rare mingling of beauty, brilliance, style, gaiety, polite solidity and solid politeness, sportiveness, joy,M
 all the mirth and playfulness of these wives and daughters of petty officials, more like fairies than ladies - in a complimentary sense - with their lily shoulders and their rosy faces, their ethereal figures, their playfully agile homeopathic - to use the exalted language appropriate - little feet? How can I describe to you, finally, the gallant officials, their partners - gay and solid youths, steady, gleeful, decorously vague, smoking a pipe in the intervals between the dancing in a little green room apart, or M
not smoking a pipe in the intervals between the dances, every one of them with a highly respectable surname and rank in the service - all steeped in a sense of the elegant and a sense of their own dignity; almost all speaking French to their partners, or if Russian, using only the most well-bred expressions, compliments and profound observations, and only in the smoking -room permitting themselves some genial lapses from this high tone, some phrases of cordial and friendly brevity, such, for instance, as: "'Pon my M
soul, Petka, you rake, you did kick me off that polka in style," or, "I say, Vasya, you dog, you did give your partner a time of it." For all this, as I've already had the honour of explaining, oh, my readers! my pen fails me, and therefore I am dumb. Let us rather return to Mr. Golyadkin, the true and only hero of my very truthful tale.
The fact is that he found himself now in a very strange position, to the least of it. He was here also, gentlemen - that is, not at the dance, but almost at the dance; he was "aM
ll right, though; he could take care of himself," yet at that moment he was a little astray; he was standing at that moment , strange to say - on the landing of the back stairs to Olsufy Ivanovitch's flat. But it was "all right" his standing there; he was "quite well." He was standing in a corner, huddled in a place which was not very warm, though it was dark, partly hidden by a huge cupboard and an old screen, in the midst of rubbish, litter, and odds and ends of all sorts, concealing himself for the time being anM
d watching the course of proceedings as a disinterested spectator. He was only looking on now, gentlemen; he, too, gentlemen, might go in, of course . . . why should he not go in? He had only to take one step and he would go in, and would go in very adroitly. Just now, though he had been standing nearly three hours between the cupboard and the screen in the midst of the rubbish, litter and odds and ends of all sorts, he was only quoting, in his own justification, a memorable phrase of the French minister, Villesle:M
 "All things come in time to him who has the strength to wait." Mr. Golyadkin had read this sentence in some book on quite a different subject, but now very aptly recalled it. The phrase, to begin with, was exceedingly appropriate to his present position, and, indeed, why should it not occur to the mind of a man who had been waiting for almost three hours in the cold and the dark in expectation of a happy ending to his adventures. After quoting very appropriately the phrase of the French minister, Villesle, Mr. GolM
yadkin immediately thought of the Turkish Vizier, Martsimiris, as well as of the beautiful Mergravine Luise, whose story he had read also in some book. Then it occurred to his mind that the Jesuits made it their rule that any means were justified if only the end were attained. Fortifying himself somewhat with this historical fact, Mr. Golyadkin said to himself, What were the Jesuits? The Jesuits were every one of them very great fools; that he was better than any of them; that if only the refreshment-room would be M
empty for one minute (the door of the refreshment-room opened straight into the passage to the back stairs, where Mr. Golyadkin was in hiding now), he would, in spite of all the Jesuits in the world, go straight in, first from the refreshment-room into the tea-room, then into the room where they were now playing cards, and then straight into the hall where they were now dancing the polka, and he would go in - he would slip through - and that would be all, no one would notice him; and once there he would know what tM
Well, so this is the position in which we find the hero of our perfectly true story, though, indeed, it is difficult to explain what was passing in him at that moment. The fact is that he had made his way to the back of the stairs and to the passage, on the ground that, as he said, "why shouldn't he? and everyone did go that way?"; but he had not ventured to penetrate further, evidently he did not dare to do so . . . "not because there was anything he did not dare, but just because he did not care to, becaM
use he preferred to be in hiding"; so here he was, waiting now for a chance to slip in, and he had been waiting for it two hours and a half. "Why not wait? Villesle himself had waited. But what had Villesle to do with it?" thought Mr. Golyadkin: "How does Villesle come in? But how am I to . . . to go and walk in? . . . Ech, you dummy!" said Mr. Golyadkin, pinching his benumbed cheek with his benumbed fingers; "you silly fool, you silly old Golyadkin - silly fool of a surname!" . . .
But these compliments paid toM
 himself were only by the way and without any apparent aim. Now he was on the point of pushing forward and slipping in; the refreshment-room was empty and no one was in sight. Mr. Golyadkin saw all this through the little window; in two steps he was at the door and had already opened it. "Should he go in or not? Come, should he or not? I'll go in . . . why not? to the bold all ways lie open!" Reassuring himself in this way, our hero suddenly and quite unexpectedly retreated behind the screen. "No," he thought. "Ah,M
 now, somebody's coming in? Yes, they've come in; why did I dawdle when there were no people about? Even so, shall I go and slip in? . . . No, how slip in when a man has such a temperament! Fie, what a low tendency! I'm as scared as a hen! Being scared is our special line, that's the fact of the matter! To be abject on every occasion is our line: no need to ask us about that. Just stand here like a post and that's all! At home I should be having a cup of tea now . . . It would be pleasant, too, to have a cup of teaM
. If I come in later Petrushka 'll grumble, maybe. Shall I go home? Damnation take all this! I'll go and that'll be the end of it!" Reflecting on his position in this way, Mr. Golyadkin dashed forward as though some one had touched a spring in him; in two steps he found himself in the refreshment-room, flung off his overcoat, took off his hat, hurriedly thrust these things into a corner, straightened himself and smoothed himself down; then . . .then he moved on to the tea-room, and from the tea-room darted into theM
 next room, slipped almost unnoticed between the card-players, who were at the tip-top of excitement, then . . . Mr. Golyadkin forgot everything that was going on about him, and went straight as an arrow into the drawing room.
As luck would have it they were not dancing. The ladies were promenading up and down the room in picturesque groups. The gentlemen were standing about in twos and threes or flitting about the room engaging partners. Mr. Golyadkin noticed nothing of this. He saw only Klara Olsufyevna, near M
her Andrey Filippovitch, then Vladimir Semyonovitch, two or three officers, and, finally, two or three other young men who were also very interesting and, as any one could see at once, were either very promising or had actually done something. . . . He saw some one else too. Or, rather, he saw nobody and looked at nobody . . . but, moved by the same spring which had sent him dashing into the midst of a ball to which he had not been invited, he moved forward, and then forwarder and forwarder. On the way he jostled aM
gainst a councillor and trod on his foot, and incidentally stepped on a very venerable old lady's dress and tore it a little, pushed against a servant with a tray and then ran against somebody else, and, not noticing all this, passing further and further forward, he suddenly found himself facing Klara Olsufyevna. There is no doubt whatever that he would, with the utmost delight, without winking an eyelid, have sunk through the earth at that moment; but what has once been done cannot be recalled . . . can never be rM
ecalled. What was he to do? "If I fail I don't lose heart, if I succeed I persevere." Mr. Golyadkin was, of course, not "one to intrigue," and "not accomplished in the art of polishing the floor with his boots." . . . And so, indeed, it proved. Besides, the Jesuits had some hand in it too . . . though Mr. Golyadkin had no thoughts to spare for them now! All the moving, noisy, laughing groups were suddenly hushed as though at a signal and, little by little, crowded round Mr. Golyadkin. He, however, seemed to hear noM
thing, to see nothing, he could not look . . . he could not possibly look at anything; he kept his eyes on the floor and so stood, giving himself his word of honour, in passing, to shoot himself one way or another that night. Making this vow, Mr. Golyadkin inwardly said to himself, "Here goes!" and to his own great astonishment began unexpectedly to speak.
He began with congratulations and polite wishes. The congratulations went off well, but over the good wishes out hero stammered. He felt that if he stammered M
all would be lost at once. And so it turned out - he stammered and floundered . . . floundering, he blushed crimson; blushing, he was overcome with confusion. In his confusion he raised his eyes; raising his eyes he looked about him; looking about him - he almost swooned . . . Every one stood still, every one was silent, a little nearer there was laughter. Mr. Golyadkin fastened a humble, imploring look on Andrey Filippovitch. Andrey Filippovitch. Andrey Filippovitch responded with such a look that if our hero had M
not been utterly crushed already he certainly would have been crushed a second time - that is, if that were possible. The silence lasted long.
"This is rather concerned with my domestic circumstances and my private life, Andrey Filippovitch," our hero, half-dead, articulated in a scarcely audible voice; "it is not an official incident, Andrey Filippovitch . . ."
"For shame, sir, for shame!" Andrey Filippovitch pronounced in a half whisper, with an indescribable air of indignation; he pronounced these words anM
d, giving Klara Olsufyevna his arm, he turned away from Mr. Golyadkin.
"I've nothing to be ashamed of, Andrey Filippovitch," answered Mr. Golyadkin, also in a whisper, turning his miserable eyes about him, trying helplessly to discover in the amazed crowd something on which he could gain a footing and retrieve his social position.
"Why, it's all right, it's nothing, gentlemen! Why, what's the matter? Why, it might happen to any one," whispered Mr. Golyadkin, moving a little away and trying to escape from the M
crowd surrounding him.
They made way for him. Our hero passed through two rows of inquisitive and wondering spectators. Fate drew him on. He felt himself, that fate was leading him on. He would have given a great deal, of course, for a chance to be back in the passage by the back stairs, without having committed a breach of propriety; but as that was utterly impossible he began trying to creep away into a corner and to stand there - modestly, decorously, apart, without interfering with any one, without attractinM
g especial attention, but at the same time to win the favourable notice of his host and the company. At the same time Mr. Golyadkin felt as though the ground were giving way under him, as though he were staggering, falling. At last he made his way to a corner and stood in it, like an unconcerned, rather indifferent spectator, leaning his arms on the backs of two chairs, taking complete possession of them in that way, and trying, as far as he could, to glance confidently at Olsufy Ivanovitch's guests, grouped about M
him. Standing nearest him was an officer, a tall and handsome fellow, beside whom Golyadkin felt himself an insect.
"These two chairs, lieutenant, are intended, one for Klara Olsufyevna, and the other for Princess Tchevtchehanov; I'm taking care of them for them," said Mr. Golyadkin breathlessly, turning his imploring eyes on the officer. The lieutenant said nothing, but turned away with a murderous smile. Checked in this direction, our hero was about to try his luck in another quarter, and directly addressed anM
 important councillor with a cross of great distinction on his breast. But the councillor looked him up and down with such a frigid stare that Mr. Golyadkin felt distinctly as though a whole bucketful of cold water had been thrown over him. He subsided into silence. He made up his mind that it was better to keep quiet, not to open his lips, and to show that he was "all right," that he was "like every one else," and that his position, as far as he could see, was quite a proper one. With this object he rivetted his gM
aze on the lining of his coat, ten raised his eyes and fixed them upon a very respectable-looking gentleman. "That gentleman has a wig on," thought Mr. Golyadkin; "and if he takes off that wig he will be bald, his head will be as bare as the palm of my hand." Having made this important discovery, Mr. Golyadkin thought of the Arab Emirs, whose heads are left bare and shaven if they take off the green turbans they wear as a sign of their descent from the prophet Mahomet. Then, probably from some special connection ofM
 ideas with the Turks, he thought of Turkish slippers and at once, apropos of that, recalled the fact that Andrey Filippovitch was wearing boots, and that his boots were more like slippers than boots. It was evident that Mr. Golyadkin had become to some extent reconciled to his position. "What if that chandelier," flashed through Mr. Golyadkin's mind, "were to come down from the ceiling and fall upon the company. I should rush at once to save Klara Olsufyevna. 'Save her!' I should cry. 'Don't be alarmed, madam, it'M
s of no consequence, I will rescue you, I.' Then . . ."
At that moment Mr. Golyadkin looked about in search of Klara Olsufyevna, and saw Gerasimitch, Olsufy Ivanovitch's old butler. Gerasimitch, with a most anxious and solemnly official air, was making straight for him. Mr. Golyadkin started and frowned from an unaccountable but most disagreeable sensation; he looked about him mechanically; it occurred to his mind that if only he could somehow creep off somewhere, unobserved, on the sly - simply disappear, that M
it, behave as though he had done nothing at all, as though the matter did not concern him in the least! . . . But before hour hero could make up his mind to do anything, Gerasimitch was standing before him.
"Do you see, Gerasimitch," said our hero, with a little smile, addressing Gerasimitch; "you go and tell them - do you see the candle there in the chandelier, Gerasimitch - it will be falling down directly: so, you know, you must tell them to see to it; it really will fall down, Gerasimitch. . . ."
dle? No, the candle's standing straight; but somebody is asking for you, sir."
"Who is asking for me, Gerasimitch?"
"I really can't say, sir, who it is. A man with a message. 'Is Yakov Petrovitch Golyadkin here?' says he. 'Then call him out,' says he, 'on very urgent and important business . . .' you see."
"No, Gerasimitch, you are making a mistake; in that you are making a mistake, Gerasimitch."
"No, Gerasimitch, it isn't doubtful; there's nothing doubtful about it, Gerasimitch. NM
obody's asking for me, but I'm quite at home here - that is, in my right place, Gerasimitch."
Mr. Golyadkin took a breath and looked about him. Yes! every one in the room, all had their eyes fixed upon him, and were listening in a sort of solemn expectation. The men had crowded a little nearer and were all attention. A little further away the ladies were whispering together. The master of the house made his appearance at no great distance from Mr. Golyadkin, and though it was impossible to detect from his expresM
sion that he, too, was taking a close and direct interest in Mr. Golyadkin's position, for everything was being done with delicacy, yet, nevertheless, it all made our hero feel that the decisive moment had come for him. Mr. Golyadkin saw clearly that the time had come for a old stroke, the chance of putting his enemies to shame. Mr. Golyadkin was in great agitation. He was aware of a sort of inspiration and, in a quivering and impressive voice, he began again, addressing the waiting butler -
"No, my dear fellow,M
 no one's calling for me. You are mistaken. I will say more: you were mistaken this morning too, when you assured me. . . . dared to assure me, I say (he raised his voice), "that Olsufy Ivanovitch, who has been my benefactor for as long as I can remember and has, in a sense, been a father to me, was shutting his door upon me at the moment of solemn family rejoicing for his paternal heart." (Mr. Golyadkin looked about him complacently, but with deep feeling. A tear glittered on his eyelash.) "I repeat, my friend," oM
ur hero concluded, "you were mistaken, you were cruelly and unpardonably mistaken. . . ."
The moment was a solemn one. Mr. Golyadkin felt that the effect was quite certain. He stood with modestly downcast eyes, expecting Olsufy Ivanovitch to embrace him. Excitement and perplexity were apparent in the guests, even the inflexible and terrible Gerasimitch faltered over the words "I doubt it . . ." when suddenly the ruthless orchestra, apropos of nothing, struck up a polka. All was lost, all was scattered to the winM
ds. Mr. Golyadkin started; Gerasimitch stepped back; everything in the room began undulating like the sea; and Vladimir Semyonovitch led the dance with Klara Olsufyevna, while the handsome lieutenant followed with Princess Tchevtchehanov. Onlookers, curious and delighted, squeezed in to watch them dancing the polka - an interesting, fashionable new dance which every one was crazy over. Mr. Golyadkin was, for the time, forgotten. But suddenly all were thrown into excitement, confusion and bustle; the music ceased . M
. . a strange incident had occurred. Tired out with the dance, and almost breathless with fatigue, Klara Olsufyevna, with glowing cheeks and heaving bosom, sank into an armchair, completely exhausted . . . All hearts turned to the fascinating creature, all vied with one another in complimenting her and thanking her for the pleasure conferred on them, - all at once there stood before her Mr. Golyadkin. He was pale, extremely perturbed; he, too, seemed completely exhausted, he could scarcely move. He was smiling for M
some reason, he stretched out his hand imploringly. Klara Olsufyevna was so taken aback that she had not time to withdraw hers and mechanically got up at his invitation. Mr. Golyadkin lurched forward, first once, then a second time, then lifted his leg, then made a scrape, then gave a sort of stamp, then stumbled . . . he, too, wanted to dance with Klara Olsufyevna. Klara Olsufyevna uttered a shriek; every one rushed to release her hand from Mr. Golyadkin's, and in a moment our hero was carried almost ten paces awaM
y by the rush of the crowd. A circle formed round him too. Two old ladies, whom he had almost knocked down in his retreat raised a great shrieking and outcry. The confusion was awful; all were asking questions, every one was shouting, every one was finding fault. The orchestra was silent.
Our hero whirled round in his circle and mechanically, with a semblance of a smile, muttered something to himself, such as, "Why not?" and "that the polka, so far, at least, as he could see, was a new and very interesting danceM
, invented for the diversion of the ladies. . . but that since things had taken this turn, he was ready to consent." But Mr. Golyadkin's consent no one apparently thought of asking. Our hero was suddenly aware that some one's hand was laid on his arm, that another hand was pressed against his back, that he was with peculiar solicitude being guided in a certain direction. At last he noticed that he was going straight to the door. Mr. Golyadkin wanted to say something, to do something. . . . But no, he no longer wantM
ed to do anything. He only mechanically kept laughing in answer. At last he was aware that they were putting on his greatcoat, that his hat was thrust over his eyes; finally he felt that he was in the entry on the stairs in the dark and cold. At last he stumbled, he felt that he was falling down a precipice; he tried to cry out - and suddenly he found himself in the courtyard. The air blew fresh on him, he stood still for a minute; at that very instant, the strains reached him of the orchestra striking up again. MrM
. Golyadkin suddenly recalled it all; it seemed to him that all his flagging energies came back to him again. He had been standing as though rivetted to the spot, but now he started off and rushed away headlong, anywhere, into the air, into freedom, wherever chance might take him.
It was striking midnight from all the clock towers in Petersburg when Mr. Golyadkin, beside himself, ran out on the Fontanka Quay, close to the Ismailovsky Bridge, fleeing from his foes, from persecution, from a hailstorM
m of nips and pinches aimed at him, from the shrieks of excited old ladies, from the Ohs and Ahs of women and from the murderous eyes of Andrey Filippovitch. Mr. Golyadkin was killed - killed entirely, in the full sense of the word, and if he still preserved the power of running, it was simply through some sort of miracle, a miracle in which at last he refused himself to believe.
It was an awful November night - wet, foggy, rainy, snowy, teeming with colds in the head, fevers, swollen faces, quinseys, inflammatiM
ons of all kinds and descriptions - teeming, in fact, with all the gifts of a Petersburg November. The wind howled in the deserted streets, lifting up the black water of the canal above the rings on the bank, and irritably brushing against the lean lamp-posts which chimed in with its howling in a thin, shrill creak, keeping up the endless squeaky, jangling concert with which every inhabitant of Petersburg is so familiar. Snow and rain were falling both at once. Lashed by the wind, the streams of rainwater spurted aM
lmost horizontally, as though from a fireman's hose, pricking and stinging the face of the luckless Mr. Golyadkin like a thousand pins and needles. In the stillness of the night, broken only by the distant rumbling of carriages, the howl of the wind and the creaking of the lamp-posts, there was the dismal sound of the splash and gurgle of water, rushing from every roof, every porch, every pipe and every cornice, on to the granite of the pavement. There was not a soul, near or far, and, indeed, it seemed there couldM
 not be at such an hour and in such weather. And so only Mr. Golyadkin, alone with his despair, was fleeing in terror along the pavement of Fontanka, with his usual rapid little step, in haste to get home as soon as possible to his flat on the fourth storey in Shestilavotchny Street.
Though the snow, the rain, and all the nameless horrors of a raging snowstorm and fog, under a Petersburg November sky, were attacking Mr. Golyadkin, already shattered by misfortunes, were showing him no mercy, giving him no rest, dM
renching him to the bone, glueing up his eyelids, blowing right through him from all sides, baffling and perplexing him - though conspiring and combining with all his enemies to make a grand day, evening, and night for him, in spite of all this Mr. Golyadkin was almost insensible to this final proof of the persecution of destiny: so violent had been the shock and the impression made upon him a few minutes before at the civil councillor Berendyev's!
If any disinterested spectator could have glanced casually at MrM
. Golyadkin's painful progress, he would certainly have said that Mr. Golyadkin looked as though he wanted to hide from himself, as though he were trying to run away from himself! Yes! It was really so. One may say more: Mr. Golyadkin did not want only to run away from himself, but to be obliterated, to cease to be, to return to dust. At the moment he took in nothing surrounding him, understood nothing of what was going on about him, and looked as though the miseries of the stormy night, of the long tramp, the rainM
, the snow, the wind, all the cruelty of the weather, did not exist for him. The golosh slipping off the boot on Mr. Golyadkin's right foot was left behind in the snow and slush on the pavement of Fontanka, and Mr. Golyadkin did not think of turning back to get it, did not, in fact, notice that he had lost it. He was so perplexed that, in spite of everything surrounding him, he stood several times stock still in the middle of the pavement, completely possessed by the thought of his recent horrible humiliation; at tM
hat instant he was dying, disappearing; then he suddenly set off again like mad and ran and ran without looking back, as though he were pursued, as though he were fleeing from some still more awful calamity. . . . The position was truly awful! . . . At last Mr. Golyadkin halted in exhaustion, leaned on the railing in the attitude of a man whose nose has suddenly begun to bleed, and began looking intently at the black and troubled waters of the canal. All that is known is that at that instant Mr. Golyadkin reached sM
uch a pitch of despair, was so harassed, so tortured, so exhausted, and so weakened in what feeble faculties were left him that he forgot everything, forgot the Ismailovsky Bridge, forgot Shestilavotchny Street, forgot his present plight . . . After all, what did it matter to him? The thing was done. The decision was affirmed and ratified; what could he do? All at once . . . all at once he started and involuntarily skipped a couple of paces aside. With unaccountable uneasiness he bean gazing about him; but no one wM
as there, nothing special had happened, and yet . . . and yet he fancied that just now, that very minute, some one was standing near him, beside him, also leaning on the railing, and - marvellous to relate! - had even said something to him, said something quickly, abruptly, not quite intelligibly, but something quite private, something concerning himself.
"Why, was it my fancy?" said Mr. Golyadkin, looking round once more. "But where am I standing? . . . Ech, ech," he thought finally, shaking his head, though heM
 began gazing with an uneasy, miserable feeling into the damp, murky distance, straining his sight and doing his utmost to pierce with his short-sighted eyes the wet darkness that stretched all round him. There was nothing new, however, nothing special caught the eye of Mr. Golyadkin. Everything seemed to be all right, as it should be, that is, the snow was falling more violently, more thickly and in larger flakes, nothing could be seen twenty paces away, the lamp-posts creaked more shrilly than ever and the wind sM
eemed to intone its melancholy song even more tearfully, more piteously, like an importunate beggar whining for a copper to get a crust of bread. At the same time a new sensation took possession of Mr. Golyadkin's whole being: agony upon agony, terror upon terror . . . a feverish tremor ran through his veins. The moment was insufferably unpleasant! "Well, no matter; perhaps it's no matter at all, and there's no stain on any one's honour. Perhaps it's as it should be," he went on, without understanding what he was sM
aying. "Perhaps it will al be for the best in the end, and there will be nothing to complain of, and every one will be justified."
Talking like this and comforting himself with words, Mr. Golyadkin shook himself a little, shook off the snow which had drifted in thick layers on his hat, his collar, his overcoat, his tie, his boots and everything - but his strange feeling, his strange obscure misery he could not get rid of, could not shake off. Somewhere in the distance there was the boom of a cannon shot. "Ach, wM
hat weather!" thought our hero. "Tchoo! isn't there going to be a flood? It seems as though the water has risen so violently."
Mr. Golyadkin had hardly said or thought this when he saw a person coming towards him, belated, no doubt, like him, through some accident. An unimportant, casual incident, one might suppose, but for some unknown reason Mr. Golyadkin was troubled, even scared, and rather flurried. It was not that he was exactly afraid of some ill-intentioned man, but just that "perhaps . . . after all, whM
o knows, this belated individual," flashed through Mr. Golyadkin's mind, "maybe he's that very thing, maybe he's the very principal thing in it, and isn't here for nothing, but is here with an object, crossing my path and provoking me." Possibly, however, he did not think this precisely, but only had a passing feeling of something like it - and very unpleasant. There was no time, however, for thinking and feeling. The stranger was already within two paces. Mr. Golyadkin, as he invariably did, hastened to assume a qM
uite peculiar air, an air that expressed clearly that he, Golyadkin, kept himself to himself, that he was "all right," that the road was wide enough for all, and that he, Golyadkin, was not interfering with any one. Suddenly he stopped short as though petrified, as though struck by lightning, and quickly turned round after the figure which had only just passed him - turned as though some one had given him a tug from behind, as though the wind had turned him like a weathercock. The passer-by vanished quickly in the M
snowstorm. He, too, walked quickly; he was dressed like Mr. Golyadkin and, like him, too, wrapped up from head to foot, and he, too, tripped and trotted along the pavement of Fontanka with rapid little steps that suggested that he was a little scared.
"What - what is it?" whispered Mr. Golyadkin, smiling mistrustfully, though he trembled all over. An icy shiver ran down his back. Meanwhile, the stranger had vanished completely; there was no sound of his step, while Mr. Golyadkin still stood and gazed after him. M
At last, however, he gradually came to himself.
"Why, what's the meaning of it?" he thought with vexation. "Why, have I really gone out of my mind, or what?" He turned and went on his way, making his footsteps more rapid and frequent, and doing his best not to think of anything at all. He even closed his eyes at last with the same object. Suddenly, through the howling of the wind and the uproar of the storm, the sound of steps very close at hand reached his ears again. He started and opened his eyes. Again a rapM
idly approaching figure stood out black before him, some twenty paces away. This little figure was hastening, tripping along, hurrying nervously; the distance between them grew rapidly less. Mr. Golyadkin could by now get a full view of the second belated companion. He looked full at him and cried out with amazement and horror; his legs gave way under him. It was the same individual who had passed him ten minutes before, and who now quite unexpectedly turned up facing him again. But this was not the only marvel thaM
t struck Mr. Golyadkin. He was so amazed that he stood still, cried out, tried to say something, and rushed to overtake the stranger, even shouted something to him, probably anxious to stop him as quickly as possible. The stranger did, in fact, stop ten paces from Mr. Golyadkin, so that the light from the lamp-post that stood near fell full upon his whole figure - stood still, turned to Mr. Golyadkin, and with impatient and anxious face waited to hear what he would say.
"Excuse me, possibly I'm mistaken," our heM
ro brought out in a quavering voice.
The stranger in silence, and with an air of annoyance, turned and rapidly went on his way, as though in haste to make up for the two seconds he had wasted on Mr. Golyadkin. As for the latter, he was quivering in every nerve, his knees shook and gave way under him, and with a moan he squatted on a stone at the edge of the pavement. There really was reason, however, for his being so overwhelmed. The fact is that this stranger seemed to him somehow familiar. That would have beenM
 nothing, though. But he recognised, almost certainly recognised this man. He had often seen him, that man, had seen him some time, and very lately too; where could it have been? Surely not yesterday? But, again, that was not the chief thing that Mr. Golyadkin had often seen him before; there was hardly anything special about the man; the man at first sight would not have aroused any special attention. He was just a man like any one else, a gentleman like all other gentlemen, of course, and perhaps he had some goodM
 qualities and very valuable one too - in fact, he was a man who was quite himself.
Mr. Golyadkin cherished no sort of hatred or enmity, not even the slightest hostility towards this man - quite the contrary, it would seem, indeed - and yet (and this was the real point) he would not for any treasure on earth have been willing to meet that man, and especially to meet him as he had done now, for instance. We may say more: Mr. Golyadkin knew that man perfectly well: he even knew what he was called, what his name waM
s; and yet nothing would have induced him, and again, for no treasure on earth would he have consented to name him, to consent to acknowledge that he was called so-and-so, that his father's name was this and his surname was that. Whether Mr. Golyadkin's stupefaction lasted a short time or a long time, whether he was sitting for a long time on the stone of the pavement I cannot say; but, recovering himself a little at last, he suddenly fall to running, without looking round, as fast as his legs could carry him; his M
mind was preoccupied, twice he stumbled and almost fell - and through this circumstance his other boot was also bereaved of its golosh. At last Mr. Golyadkin slackened his pace a little to get breath, looked hurriedly round and saw that he had already, without being aware of it, run passed part of the Nevsky Prospect and was now standing at the turning into Liteyny Street. Mr. Golyadkin turned into Liteyny Street. His position at that instant was like that of a man standing at the edge of a fearful precipice, whileM
 the earth is bursting open under him, is already shaking, moving, rocking for the last time, falling, drawing him into the abyss, and yet, the luckless wretch has not the strength, nor the resolution, to leap back, to avert his eyes from the yawning gulf below; the abyss draws him and at last he leaps into it of himself, himself hastening the moment of destruction.
Mr. Golyadkin knew, felt and was firmly convinced that some other evil would certainly befall him on the way, that some unpleasantness would overtakM
e him, that he would, for instance, meet his stranger once more: but - strange to say, he positively desired this meeting, considered it inevitable, and all he asked was that it might all be quickly over, that he should be relieved from his position in one way or another, but as soon as possible. And meanwhile he ran on and on, as though moved by some external force, for he felt a weakness and numbness in his whole being: he could not think of anything, though his thoughts caught at everything like brambles. A littM
le lost dog, soaked and shivering, attached itself to Mr. Golyadkin, and ran beside him, scurrying along with tail and ears drooping, looking at him from time to time with timid comprehension. Some remote, long-forgotten idea - some memory of something that had happened long ago - came back into his mind now, kept knocking at his brain as with a hammer, vexing him and refusing to be shaken off.
"Ech, that horrid little cur!" whispered Mr. Golyadkin, not understanding himself.
At last he saw his stranger at thM
e turning into Italyansky Street. But this time the stranger was not coming to meet him, but was running in the same direction as he was, and he, too, was running, a few steps in front. At last they turned into Shestilavotchny Street.
Mr. Golyadkin caught his breath. The stranger stopped exactly before the house in which Mr. Golyadkin lodged. He heard a ring at the bell and almost at the same time the grating of the iron bolt. The gate opened, the stranger stooped, darted in and disappeared. Almost at the same iM
nstant Mr. Golyadkin reached the spot and like an arrow flew in at the gate. Heedless of the grumbling porter, he ran, gasping for breath, into the yard, and immediately saw his interesting companion, whom he had lost sight of for a moment.
The stranger darted towards the staircase which led to Mr. Golyadkin's flat. Mr. Golyadkin rushed after him. The stairs were dark, damp and dirt. At every turning there were heaped-up masses of refuse from the flats, so that any unaccustomed stranger who found himself on the M
stairs in the dark was forced to travel to and fro for half an hour in danger of breaking his legs, cursing the stairs as well as the friends who lived in such an inconvenient place. But Mr. Golyadkin's companion seemed as though familiar with it, as though at home; he ran up lightly, without difficulty, showing a perfect knowledge of his surroundings. Mr. Golyadkin had almost caught him up; in fact, once or twice the stranger's coat flicked him on the nose. His heart stood still. The stranger stopped before the doM
or of Mr. Golyadkin's flat, knocked on it, and (which would, however, have surprised Mr. Golyadkin at any other time) Petrushka, as though he had been sitting up in expectation, opened the door at once and, with a candle in his hand, followed the strange as the latter went in. The hero of our story dashed into his lodging beside himself; without taking off his hat or coat he crossed the little passage and stood still in the doorway of his room, as though thunderstruck. All his presentiments had come true. All that M
he had dreaded and surmised was coming to pass in reality. His breath failed him, his head was in a whirl. The stranger, also in his coat and hat, was sitting before him on his bed, and with a faint smile, screwing up his eyes, nodded to him in a friendly way. Mr. Golyadkin wanted to scream, but could not - to protest in some way, but his strength failed him. His hair stood on end, and he almost fell down with horror. And, indeed, there was good reason. He recognised his nocturnal visitor. The nocturnal visitor wasM
 no other than himself - Mr. Golyadkin himself, another Mr. Golyadkin, but absolutely the same as himself - in fact, what is called a double in every respect.  . . .
At eight o'clock next morning Mr. Golyadkin woke up in his bed. At once all the extraordinary incidents of the previous day and the wild, incredible night, with all its almost impossible adventures, presented themselves to his imagination and memory with terrifying vividness. Such intense, diabolical malice on the part of his enemiesM
, and, above all, the final proof of that malice, froze Mr. Golyadkin's heart.
But at the same time it was all so strange, incomprehensible, wild, it seemed so impossible, that it was really hard to credit the whole business; Mr. Golyadkin was, indeed, ready to admit himself that it was all an incredible delusion, a passing aberration of the fancy, a darkening of the mind, if he had not fortunately known by bitter experience to what lengths spite will sometimes carry any one, what a pitch of ferocity an enemy maM
y reach when he is bent on revenging his honour and prestige. Besides, Mr. Golyadkin's exhausted limbs, his heavy head, his aching back, and the malignant cold in his head bore vivid witness to the probability of his expedition of the previous night and upheld the reality of it, and to some extent of all that had happened during that expedition. And, indeed, Mr. Golyadkin had known long, long before that something was being got up among them, that there was some one else with them. But after all, thinking it over tM
horoughly, he made up his mind to keep quiet, to submit and not to protest for the time.
"They are simply plotting to frighten me, perhaps, and when they see that I don't mind, that I make no protest, but keep perfectly quiet and put up with it meekly, they'll give it up, they'll give it up of themselves, give it up of their own accord."
Such, then, were the thoughts in the mind of Mr. Golyadkin as, stretching in his bed, trying to rest his exhausted limbs, he waited for Petrushka to come into his room as usuM
al . . . He waited for a full quarter of an hour. He heard the lazy scamp fiddling about with the samovar behind the screen, and yet he could not bring himself to call him. We may say more: Mr. Golyadkin was a little afraid of confronting Petrushka.
"Why, goodness knows," he thought, "goodness knows how that rascal looks at it all. He keeps on saying nothing, but he has his own ideas."
At last the door creaked and Petrushka came in with a tray in his hands. Mr. Golyadkin stole a timid glance at him, impatientM
ly waiting to see what would happen, waiting to see whether he would not say something about a certain circumstance. But Petrushka said nothing; he was, on the contrary, more silent, more glum and ill-humoured than usual; he looked askance from under his brows at everything; altogether it was evident that he was very much put out about something; he did not even once glance at his master, which, by the way, rather piqued the latter. Setting all he had brought on the table, he turned and went out of the room withoutM
"He knows, he knows, he knows all about it, the scoundrel!" Mr. Golyadkin grumbled to himself as he took his tea. Yet out hero did not address a single question to his servant, though Petrushka came into his room several times afterwards on various errands. Mr. Golyadkin was in great trepidation of spirit. He dreaded going to the office. He had a strong presentiment that there he would find something that would not be "just so."
"You may be sure," he thought, "that as soon as you go you will light upM
on something! Isn't it better to endure in patience? Isn't it better to wait a bit now? Let them do what they like there; but I'd better stay here a bit today, recover my strength, get better, and think over the whole affair more thoroughly, then afterwards I could seize the right moment, fall upon them like snow from the sky, and get off scot free myself."
Reasoning like this, Mr. Golyadkin smoked pipe after pipe; time was flying. It was already nearly half-past nine.
"Why, it's half-past nine already," thouM
ght Mr. Golyadkin; "it's late for me to make my appearance. Besides, I'm ill, of course I'm ill, I'm certainly ill; who denies it? What's the matter with me? If they send to make inquiries, let the executive clerk come; and, indeed, what is the mater with me really? Mr back aches, I have a cough, and a cold in my head; and, in fact, it's out of the question for me to go out, utterly out of the question in such weather. I might be taken ill and, very likely, die; nowadays especially the death-rate is so high . . ."
With such reasoning Mr. Golyadkin succeeded at last in setting his conscience at rest, and defended himself against the reprimands he expected from Andrey Filippovitch for neglect of his duty. As a rule in such cases our hero was particularly fond of justifying himself in his own eyes with all sorts of irrefutable arguments, and so completely setting his conscience at rest. And so now, having completely soothed his conscience, he took up his pipe, filled it, and had no sooner settled down comfortably to smoke, wM
hen he jumped up quickly from the sofa, flung away the pipe, briskly washed, shaved, and brushed his hair, got into his uniform and so on, snatched up some papers, and flew to the office.
Mr. Golyadkin went into his department timidly, in quivering expectation of something unpleasant - an expectation which was none the less disagreeable for being vague and unconscious; he sat timidly down in his invariable place next the head clerk, Anton Antonovitch Syetotchkin. Without looking at anything or allowing his attenM
tion to be distracted, he plunged into the contents of the papers that lay before him. He made up his mind and vowed to himself to avoid, as far as possible, anything provocative, anything that might compromise him, such as indiscreet questions, jests, or unseemly allusions to any incidents of the previous evening; he made up his mind also to abstain from the usual interchange of civilities with his colleagues, such as inquiries after health and such like.
But evidently it was impossible, out of the question, toM
 keep to this. Anxiety and uneasiness in regard to anything near him that was annoying always worried him far more than the annoyance itself. And that was why, in spite of his inward vows to refrain from entering into anything, whatever happened, and to keep aloof from everything, Mr. Golyadkin from time to time, on the sly, very, very quietly, raised his head and stealthily looked about him to right and to left, peeped at the countenances of his colleagues, and tried to gather whether there were not something new M
and particular in them referring to himself and with sinister motives concealed from him. He assumed that there must be a connection between all that had happened yesterday and all that surrounded him now. At last, in his misery, he began to long for something - goodness knows what - to happen to put an end to it - even some calamity - he did not care. At this point destiny caught Mr. Golyadkin: he had hardly felt this desire when his doubts were solved in the strange and most unexpected manner.
 from the next room suddenly gave a soft and timid creak, as though to indicate that the person about to enter was a very unimportant one, and a figure, very familiar to Mr. Golyadkin, stood shyly before the very table at which our hero was seated. The latter did not raise his head - no, he only stole a glance at him, the tiniest glance; but he knew all, he understood all, to every detail. He grew hot with shame, and buried his devoted head in his papers with precisely the same object with which the ostrich, pursueM
d by hunters, hides his head in the burning sand. The new arrival bowed to Andrey Filippovitch, and thereupon he heard a voice speaking in the regulation tone of condescending tone of politeness with which all persons in authority address their subordinates in public offices.
"Take a seat here." said Andrey Filippovitch, motioning the newcomer to Anton Antonovitch's table. "Here, opposite Mr. Golyadkin, and we'll soon give you something to do."
Andrey Filippovitch ended by making a rapid gesture that decorousM
ly admonished the newcomer of his duty, and then he immediately became engrossed in the study of the papers that lay in a heap before him.
Mr. Golyadkin lifted his eyes at last, and that he did not fall into a swoon was simply because he had foreseen it all from the first, that he had been forewarned from the first, guessing in his soul who the stranger was. Mr. Golyadkin's first movement was to look quickly about him, to see whether there were any whispering, any office joke being cracked on the subject, whetheM
r any one's face was agape with wonder, whether, indeed, some one had not fallen under the table from terror. But to his intense astonishment there was no sign of anything of the sort. The behaviour of his colleagues and companions surprised him. It seemed contrary to the dictates of common sense. Mr. Golyadkin was positively scared at this extraordinary reticent. The fact spoke for itself; it was a strange, horrible, uncanny thing. It was enough to rouse any one.
All this, of course, only passed rapidly throughM
 Mr. Golyadkin's mind. He felt as though he were burning in a slow fire. And, indeed, there was enough to make him. The figure that was sitting opposite Mr. Golyadkin now was his terror, was his shame, was him nightmare of the evening before; in short, was Mr. Golyadkin himself, not the Mr. Golyadkin who was sitting now in his chair with his mouth wide open and his pen petrified in his hand, not the one who acred as assistant to his chief, not the one who liked to efface himself and slink away in the crowd, not theM
 one whose deportment plainly said, "Don't touch me and I won't touch you," or, "Don't interfere with me, you see I'm not touching you"; no, this was another Mr. Golyadkin, quite different, yet at the same time, exactly like the first - the same height, the same figure, the same clothes, the same baldness; in fact, nothing, absolutely nothing, was lacking to complete the likeness, so that if one were to set them side by side, nobody, absolutely nobody, could have undertaken to distinguish which was the real Mr. GolM
yadkin and which was the new one, which was the original and which was the copy.
Our hero was - if the comparison can be made - in the position of a man upon whom some practical joker has stealthily, by way of jest, turned a burning glass.
"What does it mean? Is it a dream?" he wondered. "Is it reality or the continuation of what happened yesterday? And besides, by what right is this all being done? Who sanctioned such a clerk, who authorized this? Am I asleep, am I in a waking dream?"
Mr. Golyadkin tried M
pinching himself, even tried to screw up his courage to pinch some one else . . . No, it was not a dream and that was all about it. Mr. Golyadkin felt that the sweat was trickling down him in big drops; he felt that what was happening to him was something incredible, unheard of, and for that very reason was, to complete his misery, utterly unseemly, for Mr. Golyadkin realized and felt how disadvantageous it was to be the first example of such a burlesque adventure. He even began to doubt his own existence, and thouM
gh he was prepared for anything and had been longing for his doubts to be settled in any way whatever, yet the actual reality was startling in its unexpectedness. His misery was poignant and overwhelming. At times he lost all power of thought and memory.
Coming to himself after such a moment, he noticed that he was mechanically and unconsciously moving the pen over the paper. Mistrustful of himself, he began going over what he had written - and could make nothing of it. At last the other Mr. Golyadkin, who had bM
een sitting discreetly and decorously at the table, got up and disappeared through the door into the other room. Mr. Golyadkin looked around - everything was quiet; he heard nothing but the scratching of pens, the rustle of turning over pages, and conversation in the corners furthest from Andrey Filippovitch's seat. Mr. Golyadkin looked at Anton Antonovitch, and as, in all probability, our hero's countenance fully reflected his real condition and harmonized with the whole position, and was consequently, from one poM
int of view, very remarkable, good-natured Anton Antonovitch, laying aside his pen, inquired after his health with marked sympathy.
"I'm very well, thank God, Anton Antonovitch," said Mr. Golyadkin, stammering. "I am perfectly well, Anton Antonovitch. I am all right now, Anton Antonovitch," he added uncertainly, not yet fully trusting Anton Antonovitch, whose name he had mentioned so often.
"I fancied you were not quite well: though that's not to be wondered at; no, indeed! Nowadays especially there's such a M
lot of illness going about. Do you know . . ."
"Yes, Anton Antonovitch, I know there is such a lot of illness . . . I did not mean that, Anton Antonovitch," Mr. Golyadkin went on, looking intently at Anton Antonovitch. "You see, Anton Antonovitch, I don't even know how you, that is, I mean to say, how to approach this matter, Anton Antonovitch. . . ."
"How so? I really . . . do you know . . . I must confess I don't quite understand; you must . . . you must explain, you know, in what way you are in difficultieM
s," said Anton Antonovitch, beginning to be in difficulties himself, seeing that there were actually tears in Mr. Golyadkin's eyes.
"Really, Anton Antonovitch . . . I . . . here . . . there's a clerk here, Anton Antonovitch . . ."
"Well! I don't understand now."
"I mean to say, Anton Antonovitch, there's a new clerk here."
"Yes, there is; a namesake of yours."
"What?" cried Mr. Golyadkin.
"I say a namesake of yours; his name's Golyadkin too. Isn't he a brother of yours?"
"No, Anton Antonovitch,M
"H'm! you don't say so! Why, I thought he must be a relation of yours. Do you know, there's a sort of family likeness."
Mr. Golyadkin was petrified with astonishment, and for the moment he could not speak. To treat so lightly such a horrible, unheard-of thing, a thing undeniably rare and curious in its way, a thing which would have amazed even an unconcerned spectator, to talk of a family resemblance when he could see himself as in a looking-glass!
"Do you know, Yakov Petrovitch, what I advise yoM
u to do?" Anton Antonovitch went on. "Go and consult a doctor. Do you know, you look somehow quite unwell. You eyes look peculiar . . . you know, there's a peculiar expression in them."
"No, Anton Antonovitch, I feel, of course . . . that is, I keep wanting to ask about this clerk."
"That is, have not you noticed, Anton Antonovitch, something peculiar about him, something very marked?"
"That is, I mean, Anton Antonovitch, a striking likeness with somebody, for instance; withM
 me, for instance? You spoke just now, you see, Anton Antonovitch, of a family likeness. You let slip the remark. . . . You know there really are sometimes twins exactly alike, like two drops of water, so that they can't be told apart. Well, it's that that I mean."
"To be sure," said Anton Antonovitch, after a moment's thought, speaking as though he were struck by the fact for the first time: "yes, indeed! You are right, there is a striking likeness, and you are quite right in what you say. You really might be mM
istaken for one another," he went on, opening his eyes wider and wider; "and, do you know, Yakov Petrovitch, it's positively a marvellous likeness, fantastic, in fact, as the saying is; that is, just as you . . . Have you observed, Yakov Petrovitch? I wanted to ask you to explain it; yes, I must confess I didn't take particular notice at first. It's wonderful, it's really wonderful! And, you know, you are not a native of these parts, are you, Yakov Petrovitch?"
"He is not from these parts, you know, eitM
her. Perhaps he comes from the same part of the country as you do. Where, may I make bold to inquire, did your mother live for the most part?"
"You said . . . you say, Anton Antonovitch, that he is not a native of these parts?"
"No, he is not. And indeed how strange it is!" continued the talkative Anton Antonovitch, for whom it was a genuine treat to gossip. "It may well arouse curiosity; and yet, you know, you might pass him by, brush against him, without noticing anything. But you mustn't be upset about it.M
 It's a thing that does happen. Do you know, the same thing, I must tell you, happened to my aunt on my mother's side; she saw her own double before her death . . ."
"No, I - excuse me for interrupting you, Anton Antonovitch - I wanted to find out, Anton Antonovitch, how that clerk . . . that is, on what footing is he here?"
"In the place of Semyon Ivanovitch, to fill the vacancy left by his death; the post was vacant, so he was appointed. Do you know, I'm told poor Semyon Ivanovitch left three children, all M
tiny dots. The widow fell at the feet of his Excellency. They do say she's hiding something; she's got a bit of money, but she's hiding it."
"No, Anton Antonovitch, I was still referring to that circumstance."
"You mean . . .? To be sure! But why are you so interested in that? I tell you not to upset yourself. All this is temporary to some extent. Why, after all, you know, you have nothing to do with it. So it has been ordained by God Almighty, it's His will, and it is sinful repining. His wisdom is apparent M
in it. And as far as I can make out, Yakov Petrovitch, you are not to blame in any way. There are all sorts of strange things in the world! Mother Nature is liberal with her gifts, and you are not called upon to answer for it, you won't be responsible. Here, for instance, you have heard, I expect, of those - what's their name? - oh, the Siamese twins who are joined together at the back, live and eat and sleep together. I'm told they get a lot of money."
"Allow me, Anton Antonovitch . . ."
"I understand, I undM
erstand! Yes! But what of it? It's no matter, I tell you, ad far as I can see there's nothing for you to upset yourself about. After all, he's a clerk - as a clerk he seems to be a capable man. He says his name is Golyadkin, that he's not a native of this district, and that he's a titular councillor. He had a personal interview with his Excellency."
"And how did his Excellency . . .?"
"It was all right; I am told he gave a satisfactory account of himself, gave his reasons, said, 'It's like this, your ExcellenM
cy,' and that he was without means and anxious to enter the service, and would be particularly flattered to be serving under his Excellency . . . all that was proper, you know; he expressed himself neatly. He must be a sensible man. But of course he came with a recommendation; he couldn't have got in without that . . ."
"Oh, from whom . . . that is, I mean, who is it has had a hand in this shameful business?"
"Yes, a good recommendation, I'm told; his Excellency, I'm told laughed with Andrey Filippovitch."
"Laughed with Andrey Filippovitch?"
"Yes, he only just smiled and said that it was all right, and that he had nothing against it, so long as he did his duty . . ."
"Well, and what more? You relieve me to some extent, Anton Antonovitch; go on, I entreat you."
"Excuse me, I must tell you again . . . Well, then, come, it's nothing, it's a very simple matter; you mustn't upset yourself, I tell you, and there's nothing suspicious about it. . . ."
"No. I . . . that is, Anton Antonovitch, I want to ask you, dM
idn't his Excellency say anything more . . .about me, for instance?"
"Well! To be sure! No, nothing of the sort; you can set your mind quite at rest. You know it is, of course, a rather striking circumstance, and at first . . .why, here, I, for instance, I scarcely noticed it. I really don't know why I didn't notice it till you mentioned it. But you can set your mind at rest entirely. He said nothing particular, absolutely nothing," added good-natured Anton Antonovitch, getting up from his chair.
ton, Antonovitch, I . . ."
"Oh, you must excuse me. Here I've been gossiping about these trivial matters, and I've business that is important and urgent. I must inquire about it."
"Anton Antonovitch!" Andrey Filippovitch's voice sounded, summoning him politely, "his Excellency has been asking for you."
"This minute, I'm coming this minute, Andrey Filippovitch." And Anton Antonovitch, taking a pile of papers, flew off first to Andrey Filippovitch and then into his Excellency's room.
"Then what is the meaM
ning of it?" thought Mr. Golyadkin. "Is there some sort of game going on? So the wind's in that quarter now . . . That's just as well; so things have taken a much pleasanter turn," our hero said to himself, rubbing his hands, and so delighted that he scarcely knew where he was. "So our position is an ordinary thing. So it turns out to be all nonsense, it comes to nothing at all. No one has done anything really, and they are not budging, the rascals, they are sitting busy over their work; that's splendid, splendid! M
I like the good-natured fellow, I've always liked him, and I'm always ready to respect him . . . though it must be said one doesn't know what to think; this Anton Antonovitch . . . I'm afraid to trust him; his hair's grey, and he's getting shaky. It's an immense and glorious thing that his Excellency said nothing, and let it pass! It's a good thing! I approve! Only why does Andrey Filippovitch interfere with his grins? What's he got to do with it? The old rogue. Always on my track, always, like a black cat, on the M
watch to run across a man's path, always thwarting and annoying a man, always annoying and thwarting a man . . ."
Mr. Golyadkin looked around him again, and again his hopes revived. Yet he felt that he was troubled by one remote idea, an unpleasant idea. It even occurred to him that he might try somehow to make up to the clerks, to be the first in the field even (perhaps when leaving the office or going up to them as though about his work), to drop a hint in the course of conversation, saying, "This is how it isM
, what a striking likeness, gentlemen, a strange circumstance, a burlesque farce!" - that is, treat it all lightly, and in this way sound the depth of the danger. "Devils breed in still waters," our hero concluded inwardly.
Mr. Golyadkin, however, only contemplated this; he thought better of it in time. He realized that this would be going too far. "That's your temperament," he said to himself, tapping himself lightly on the forehead; "as soon as you gain anything you are delighted! You're a simple soul! No, youM
 and I had better be patient, Yakov Petrovitch; let us wait and be patient!"
Nevertheless, as we have mentioned already, Mr. Golyadkin was buoyed up with the most confident hopes, feeling as though he had risen from the dead.
"No matter," he thought, "it's as though a hundred tons had been lifted off my chest! Here is a circumstance, to be sure! The box has been opened by the lid. Krylov is right, a clever chap, a rogue, that Krylov, and a great fable-write! And as for him, let him work in the office, and gooM
d luck to him so long as he doesn't meddle or interfere with any one; let him work in the office - I consent and approve!"
Meanwhile the hours were passing, flying by, and before he noticed the time it struck four. The office was closed. Andrey Filippovitch took his hat, and all followed his example in due course. Mr. Golyadkin dawdled a little on purpose, long enough to be the last to go out when all the others had gone their several ways. Going out from the street he felt as though he were in Paradise, so thatM
 he even felt inclined to go a longer way round, and to walk along the Nevsky Prospect.
"To be sure this is destiny," thought our hero, "this unexpected turn in affairs. And the weather's more cheerful, and the frost and the little sledges. And the frost suits the Russian, the Russian gets on capitally with the frost. I like the Russian. And the dear little snow, and the first few flakes in autumn; the sportsman would say, 'It would be nice to go shooting hares in the first snow.' Well, there, it doesn't matter.M
This was how Mr. Golyadkin's enthusiasm found expression. Yet something was fretting in his brain, not exactly melancholy, but at times he had such a gnawing at his heart that he did not know how to find relief.
"Let us wait for the day, though, and then we shall rejoice. And, after all, you know, what does it matter? Come, let us think it over, let us look at it. Come, let us consider it, my young friend, let us consider it. Why, a man's exactly like you in the first place, absolutely the same. Well, what M
is there in that? If there is such a man, why should I weep over it? What is it to me? I stand aside, I whistle to myself, and that's all! That's what I laid myself open to, and that's all about it! Let him work in the office! Well, it's strange and marvellous, they say, that the Siamese twins . . . But why bring in Siamese twins? They are twins, of course, but even great men, you know, sometimes look queer creatures. In fact, we know from history that the famous Suvorov used to crow like a cock . . . But there, heM
 did all that with political motives; and he was a great general . . .but what are generals, after all? But I keep myself to myself, that's all, and I don't care about any one else, and, secure in my innocence, I scorn my enemies. I am not one to intrigue, and I'm proud of it. Gentle, straightforward, neat and nice, meek and mild."
All at once Mr. Golyadkin broke off, his tongue failed him and he began trembling like a leaf; he even closed his eyes for a minute. Hoping, however, that the object of his terror wasM
 only an illusion, he opened his eyes at last and stole a timid glance to the right. No, it was not an illusion! . . . His acquaintance of that morning was tripping along by his side, smiling, peeping into his face, and apparently seeking an opportunity to begin a conversation with him. The conversation was not begun, however. They both walked like this for about fifty paces. All Mr. Golyadkin's efforts were concentrated on muffling himself up, hiding himself in his coat and pulling his hat down as far as possible M
over his eyes. To complete his mortification, his companion's coat and hat looked as though they had been taken off Mr. Golyadkin himself.
"Sir," our hero articulated at last, trying to speak almost in a whisper, and not looking at his companion, "we are going different ways, I believe . . . I am convinced of it, in fact," he said, after a pause. "I am convinced, indeed, that you quite understand me," he added, rather severely, in conclusion.
"I could have wished . . ." his companion pronounced at last, "I coM
uld have wished . . . no doubt you will be magnanimous and pardon me . . . I don't know to whom to address myself here . . . my circumstances . . . I trust you will pardon my intrusiveness. I fancied, indeed, that, moved by compassion, you showed some interest in me this morning. On my side, I felt drawn to you from the first moment. I . . ."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin inwardly wished that his companion might sink into the earth.
"If I might venture to hope that you would accord me an indulgent hearing, YakoM
"We - here, we - we . . . you had better come home with me," answered Mr. Golyadkin. "We will cross now to the other side of the Nevsky Prospect, it will be more convenient for us there, and then by the little back street . . . we'd better go by the back street."
"Very well, by all means let us go by the back street," our hero's meek companion responded timidly, suggesting by the tone of his reply that it was not for him to choose, and that in his position he was quite prepared to accept tM
he back street. As for Mr. Golyadkin, he was utterly unable to grasp what was happening to him. He could not believe in himself. He could not get over his amazement.
He recovered himself a little on the staircase as he went up to his flat.
"Oh, I'm a sheep's head," he railed at himself inwardly. "Where am I taking him? I am thrusting my head into the noose. What will Petrushka think, seeing us together? What will the scoundrel dare to imagine now? He's suspicious . . ."
But it was too lateM
 to regret it. Mr. Golyadkin knocked at the door; it was opened, and Petrushka began taking off the visitor's coat as well as his master's. Mr. Golyadkin looked askance, just stealing a glance at Petrushka, trying to read his countenance and divine what he was thinking. But to his intense astonishment he saw that his servant showed no trace of surprise, but seemed, on the contrary, to be expected something of the sort. Of course he did not look morose, as it was; he kept his eyes turned away and looked as though heM
 would like to fall upon somebody.
"Hasn't somebody bewitched them all today?" thought our hero. "Some devil must have got round them. There certainly must be something peculiar in the whole lot of them today. Damn it all, what a worry it is!"
Such were Mr. Golyadkin's thoughts and reflections as he led his visitor into his room and politely asked him to sit down. The visitor appeared to be greatly embarrassed, he was very shy, and humbly watched every movement his host made, caught his glance, and seemed tryM
ing to divine his thoughts from them. There was a downtrodden, crushed, scared look about all his gestures, so that - if the comparison may be allowed - he was at that moment rather like the man who, having lost his clothes, is dressed up in somebody else's: the sleeves work up to the elbows, the waist is almost up to his neck, and he keeps every minute pulling down the short waistcoat; he wriggles sideways and turns away, tries to hide himself, or peeps into every face, and listens whether people are talking of hiM
s position, laughing at him or putting him to shame - and he is crimson with shame and overwhelmed with confusion and wounded vanity. . . . Mr. Golyadkin put down his hat in the window, and carelessly sent it flying to the floor. The visitor darted at once to pick it up, brushed off the dust, and carefully put it back, while he laid his own on the floor near a chair, on the edge of which he meekly seated himself. This little circumstance did something to open Mr. Golyadkin's eyes; he realized that the man was in grM
eat straits, and so did not put himself out for his visitor as he had done at first, very properly leaving all that to the man himself. The visitor, for his part, did nothing either; whether he was shy, a little ashamed, or from politeness was waiting for his host to begin is not certain and would be difficult to determine. At that moment Petrushka came in; he stood still in the doorway, and fixed his eyes in the direction furthest from where the visitor and his master were seated.
"Shall I bring in dinner for tM
wo?" he said carelessly, in a husky voice.
"I - I don't know . . . you . . . yes, bring dinner for two, my boy."
Petrushka went out. Mr. Golyadkin glanced at his visitor. The latter crimsoned to his ears. Mr. Golyadkin was a kind-hearted man, and so in the kindness of his heart he at once elaborated a theory.
"The fellow's hard up," he thought. "Yes, and in his situation only one day. Most likely he's suffered in his time. Maybe his good clothes are all that he has, and nothing to get him a dinner. Ah, pooM
r fellow, how crushed he seems! But no matter; in a way it's better so. . . . Excuse me," began Mr. Golyadkin, "allow me to ask what I may call you."
"I . . . I . . . I'm Yakov Petrovitch," his visitor almost whispered, as though conscience-stricken and ashamed, as though apologizing for being called Yakov Petrovitch too.
"Yakov Petrovitch!" repeated our visitor, unable to conceal his confusion.
"Yes, just so. . . . The same name as yours," responded the meek visitor, venturing to smile and speak a little M
jocosely. But at once he drew back, assuming a very serious air, though a little disconcerted, noticing that his host was in no joking mood.
"You . . . allow me to ask you, to what am I indebted for the honour . . .?"
"Knowing your generosity and your benevolence," interposed the visitor in a rapid but timid voice, half rising from his seat, "I have ventured to appeal to you and to beg for your . . . acquaintance and protection . . ." he concluded, choosing his phrases with difficulty and trying to select worM
ds not too flattering or servile, that he might not compromise his dignity and not so bold as to suggest an unseemly equality. In fact, one may say the visitor behaved like a gentlemanly beggar with a darned waistcoat, with an honourable passport in his pocket, who has not yet learnt by practice to hold out his hand properly for alms.
"You perplex me," answered Mr. Golyadkin, gazing round at himself, his walls and his visitor. "In what could I . . . that is, I mean, in what way could I be of service to you?"
"I felt drawn to you, Yakov Petrovitch, at first sight, and, graciously forgive me, I built my hopes Yakov Petrovitch. I . . . I'm in a desperate plight here, Yakov Petrovitch; I'm poor, I've had a great deal of trouble, Yakov Petrovitch, and have only recently come here. Learning that you, with your innate goodness and excellence of heart, are of the same name . . ."
Mr. Golyadkin frowned.
"Of the same name as myself and a native of the same district, I made up my mind to appeal to you, and to make known to M
you my difficult position."
"Very good, very good; I really don't know what to say," Mr. Golyadkin responded in an embarrassed voice. "We'll have a talk after dinner . . ."
The visitor bowed; dinner was brought in. Petrushka laid the table, and Mr. Golyadkin and his visitor proceeded to partake of it. The dinner did not last long, for they were both in a hurry, the host because he felt ill at ease, and was, besides, ashamed that the dinner was a poor one - he was partly ashamed because he wanted to give the vM
isitor a good meal, and partly because he wanted to show him he did not live like a beggar. The visitor, on his side too, was in terrible confusion and extremely embarrassed. When he had finished the piece of bread he had taken, he was afraid to put out his hand to take another piece, was ashamed to help himself to the best morsels, and was continually assuring his host that he was not at all hungry, that the dinner was excellent, that he was absolutely satisfied with it, and should not forget it to his dying day. M
When the meal was over Mr. Golyadkin lighted his pipe, and offered a second, which was brought in, to his visitor. They sat facing each other, and the visitor began telling his adventures.
Mr. Golyadkin junior's story lasted for three or four hours. His history was, however, composed of the most trivial and wretched, if one may say so, incidents. It dealt with details of service in some lawcourt in the provinces, of prosecutors and presidents, of some department intrigues, of the depravity of some registration cM
lerks, of an inspector, of the sudden appointment of a new chief in the department, of how the second Mr. Golyadkin had suffered quite without any fault on his part; of his aged aunt, Pelegea Semyonovna; of how, through various intrigues on the part of his enemies, he had lost his situation, and had come to Petersburg on foot; of the harassing and wretched time he had spent here in Petersburg, how for a long time he had tried in vain to get a job, had spent all his money, had nothing left, had been living almost inM
 the street, lived on a crust of bread and washed it down with his tears, slept on the bare floor, and finally how some good Christian had exerted himself on his behalf, had given him an introduction, and had nobly got him into a new berth. Mr. Golyadkin's visitor shed tears as he told his story, and wiped his eyes with a blue-check handkerchief that looked like oilcloth. He ended by making a clean breast of it to Mr. Golyadkin, and confessing that he was not only for the time without means of subsistence and moneyM
 for a decent lodging, but had not even the wherewithal to fit himself out properly, so that he had, he said in conclusion, been able to get together enough for a pair of wretched boots, and that he had had to hire a uniform for the time.
Mr. Golyadkin was melted; he was genuinely touched. Even though his visitor's story was the paltriest story, every word of it was like heavenly manna to his heart. The fact was that Mr. Golyadkin was beginning to forget his last misgivings, to surrender his soul to freedom and M
rejoicing, and at last mentally dubbed himself a fool. It was all so natural! And what a thing to break his heart over, what a thing to be so distressed about! To be sure there was, there really was, one ticklish circumstance - but, after all, it was not a misfortune; it could be no disgrace to a man, it could not cast a slur on his honour or ruin his career, if he were innocent, since nature herself was mixed up in it. Moreover, the visitor begged for protection, wept, railed at destiny, seemed such an artless, piM
tiful, insignificant person, with no craft or malice about him, and he seemed now to be ashamed himself, though perhaps on different grounds, of the strange resemblance of his countenance with that of Mr. Golyadkin's. his behaviour was absolutely unimpeachable; his one desire was to please his host, and he looked as a man looks who feels conscience-stricken and to blame in regard to some one else.
If any doubtful point were touched upon, for instance, the visitor at once agreed with Mr. Golyadkin's opinion. If bM
y mistake he advanced an opinion in opposition to Mr. Golyadkin's and afterwards noticed that he had made a slip, he immediately corrected his mistake, explained himself and made it clear that he meant the same thing as his host, that he thought as he did and took the same view of everything as he did. In fact, the visitor made every possible effort to "make up to" Mr. Golyadkin, so that the latter made up his mind at last that his visitor must be a very amiable person in every way. Meanwhile, tea was brought in; iM
t was nearly nine o'clock. Mr. Golyadkin felt in a very good-humour, grew lively and skittish, let himself go a little, and finally plunged into a most animated and interesting conversation with his visitor. In his festive moments Mr. Golyadkin was fond of telling interesting anecdotes. So now he told the visitor a great deal about Petersburg, about its entertainments and attractions, about the theatre, the clubs, about Brulov's picture, and about the two Englishmen who came from England to Petersburg on purpose toM
 look at the iron railing of the Summer Garden, and returned at once when they had seen it; about the office; about Olsufy Ivanovitch and Andrey Filippovitch; about the way that Russia was progressing, was hour by hour progressing towards a state of perfection, so that
               "Arts and letters flourish here today";
about an anecdote he had lately read in the Northern Bee concerning a boa-constrictor in India of immense strength; about Baron Brambeus, and so on. In short, Mr. Golyadkin was quite happy,M
 first, because his mind was at rest, secondly, because, so far from being afraid of his enemies, he was quite prepared now to challenge them all to mortal combat; thirdly, because he was now in the role of patron and was doing a good deed. Yet he was conscious at the bottom of his heart that he was not perfectly happy, that there was still a hidden worm gnawing at his heart, though it was only a tiny one. He was extremely worried by the thought of the previous evening at Olsufy Ivanovitch's. He would have given a M
great deal now for nothing to have happened of what took place then.
"It's no matter, though!" our hero decided at last, and he firmly resolved in his heart to behave well in future and never to be guilty of such pranks again. As Mr. Golyadkin was now completely worked up, and had suddenly become almost blissful, the fancy took him to have a jovial time. Rum was brought in by Petrushka, and punch was prepared. The visitor and his host drained a glass each, and then a second. The visitor appeared even more amiablM
e than before, and gave more than one proof of his frankness and charming character; he entered keenly into Mr. Golyadkin's joy, seemed only to rejoice in his rejoicing, and to look upon him as his one and only benefactor. Taking up a pen and a sheet of paper, he asked Golyadkin not to look at what he was going to write, but afterwards showed his host what he had written. It turned out to be a verse of four lines, written with a good deal of feeling, in excellent language and handwriting, and evidently was the compM
osition of the amiable visitor himself. The lines were as follows -
          "If thou forget me,
           I shall not forget thee;
           Though all things may be,
           Do not thou forget me."
With tears in his eyes Mr. Golyadkin embraced his companion, and, completely overcome by his feelings, he began to initiate his friend into some of his own secrets and private affairs, Andrey Filippovitch and Klara Olsufyevna being prominent in his remarks.
"Well, you may be sure we shall get on togetM
her, Yakov Petrovitch," said our hero to his visitor. "You and I will take to each other like fish to the water, Yakov Petrovitch; we shall be like brothers; we'll be cunning, my dear fellow, we'll work together; we'll get up an intrigue, too, to pay them out. To pay them out we'll get up an intrigue too. And don't you trust any of them. I know you, Yakov Petrovitch, and I understand your character; you'll tell them everything straight out, you know, you're a guileless soul! You must hold aloof from them all, my boM
His companion entirely agreed with him, thanked Mr. Golyadkin, and he, too, grew tearful at last.
"Do you know, Yasha," Mr. Golyadkin went on in a shaking voice, weak with emotion, "you must stay with me for a time, or stay with me for ever. We shall get on together. What do you say, brother, eh? And don't you worry or repine because there's such a strange circumstance about us now; it's a sin to repine, brother; it's nature! And Mother Nature is liberal with her gifts, so there, brother Yasha! It's from M
love for you that I speak, from brotherly love. But we'll be cunning, Yasha; we'll lay a mine, too, and we'll make them laugh the other side of their mouths."
They reached their third and fourth glasses of punch at last, and then Mr. Golyadkin began to be aware of two sensations: the one that he was extraordinarily happy, and the other that he could not stand on his legs. The guest was, of course, invited to stay the night. A bed was somehow made up on two chairs. Mr. Golyadkin junior declared that under a frienM
d's roof the bare floor would be a soft bed, that for his part he could sleep anywhere, humbly and gratefully; that he was in paradise now, that he had been through a great deal of trouble and grief in his time; he had seen ups and downs, had all sorts of things to put up with, and - who could tell what the future would be? - maybe he would have still more to put up with.
Mr. Golyadkin senior protested against this, and began to maintain that one must put one's faith in God. His guest entirely agreed, observing M
that there was, of course, no one like God. At this point Mr. Golyadkin senior observed that in certain respects the Turks were right in calling upon God even in their sleep. Then, though disagreeing with certain learned professors in the slanders thy had promulgated against the Turkish prophet Mahomet and recognizing him as a great politician in his own line, Mr. Golyadkin passed to a very interesting description of an Algerian barber's shop which he had read in a book of miscellanies. The friends laughed heartilyM
 at the simplicity of the Turks, but paid dur tribute to their fanaticism, which they ascribed to opium. . . . At last the guest began undressing, and thinking in the kindness of his heart that very likely he hadn't even a decent shirt, Mr. Golyadkin went behind the screen to avoid embarrassing a man who had suffered enough, and partly to reassure himself as far as possible about Petrushka, to sound him, to cheer him up if he could, to be kind to the fellow so that every one might be happy and that everything mightM
 be pleasant all round. It must be remarked that Petrushka still rather bothered Mr. Golyadkin.
"You go to bed now, Pyotr," Mr. Golyadkin said blandly, going into his servant's domain; "you go to bed now and wake me up and eight o'clock. Do you understand Petrushka?"
Mr. Golyadkin spoke with exceptional softness and friendliness. But Petrushka remained mute. He was busy making his bed, and did not even turn round to face his master, which he ought to have done out of simple respect.
"Did you hear what I saM
id, Pyotr?" Mr. Golyadkin went on. "You go to bed now and wake me tomorrow at eight o'clock; do you understand?"
"Why, I know that; what's the use of telling me?" Petrushka grumbled to himself.
"Well, that's right, Petrushka; I only mention it that you might be happy and at rest. Now we are all happy, so I want you, too, to be happy and satisfied. And now I wish you good-night. Sleep, Petrushka, sleep; we all have to work . . . Don't think anything amiss, my man . . ." Mr. Golyadkin began, but stopped short. M
"Isn't this too much?" he thought. "Haven't I gone too far? That's how it always is; I always overdo things."
Our hero felt much dissatisfied with himself as he left Petrushka. He was, besides, rather wounded by Petrushka's grumpiness and rudeness. "One jests with the rascal, his master does him too much honour, and the rascal does not feel it," thought Mr. Golyadkin. "But there, that's the nasty way of all that sort of people!"
Somewhat shaken, he went back to his room, and, seeing that his guest had settledM
 himself for the night, he sat down on the edge of his bed for a minute.
"Come, you must own, Yasha," he began in a whisper, wagging his head, "you're a rascal, you know; what a way you've treated me! You see, you've got my name, do you know that?" he went on, jesting in a rather familiar way with his visitor. At last, saying a friendly good-night to him, Mr. Golyadkin began preparing for the night. The visitor meanwhile began snoring. Mr. Golyadkin in his turn got into bed, laughing and whispering to himself: "M
You are drunk today, my dear fellow, Yakov Petrovitch, you rascal, you old Golyadkin - what a surname to have! Why, what are you so pleased about? You'll be crying tomorrow, you know, you sniveller; what am I to do with you?"
At this point a rather strange sensation pervaded Mr. Golyadkin's whole being, something like doubt or remorse.
"I've been over-excited and let myself go," he thought; "now I've a noise in my head and I'm drunk; I couldn't restrain myself, ass that I am! and I've been babbling bushels ofM
 nonsense, and, like a rascal, I was planning to be so sly. Of course, to forgive and forget injuries is the height of virtue; but it's a bad thing, nevertheless! Yes, that is so!"
At this point Mr. Golyadkin got up, took a candle and went on tiptoe to look once more at his sleeping guest. He stood over him for a long time meditating deeply.
"An unpleasant picture! A burlesque, a regular burlesque, and that's the fact of the matter!"
At last Mr. Golyadkin settled down finally. There was a humming, a buzzinM
g, a ringing in his head. He grew more and more drowsy . . . tried to think about something very important, some delicate question - but could not. Sleep descended upon his devoted head, and he slept as people generally do sleep who are not used to drinking and have consumed five glasses of punch at some festive gathering.
Mr. Golyadkin woke up next morning at eight o'clock as usual; as soon as he was awake he recalled all the adventures of the previous evening - and frowned as he recalled themM
. "Ugh, I did play the fool last night!" he thought, sitting up and glancing at his visitor's bed. But what was his amazement when he saw in the room no trace, not only of his visitor, but even of the bed on which his visitor had slept!
"What does it mean?" Mr. Golyadkin almost shrieked. "What can it be? What does this new circumstance portend?"
While Mr. Golyadkin was gazing in open-mouthed bewilderment at the empty spot, the door creaked and Petrushka came in with the tea-tray.
"Where, where?" our hero sM
aid in a voice hardly audible, pointing to the place which had ben occupied by his visitor the night before.
At first Petrushka made no answer and did not look at his master, but fixed his eyes upon the corner to the right till Mr. Golyadkin felt compelled to look into that corner too. After a brief silence, however, Petrushka in a rude and husky voice answered that his master was not at home.
"You idiot; why I'm your master, Petrushka!" said Mr. Golyadkin in a breaking voice, looking open-eyed a his servant.M
Petrushka made no reply, but he gave Mr. Golyadkin such a look that the latter crimsoned to his ears - looked at hm with an insulting reproachfulness almost equivalent to open abuse. Mr. Golyadkin was utterly flabbergasted, as the saying is. At last Petrushka explained that the 'other one' had gone away an hour and a half ago, and would not wait. His answer, of course, sounded truthful and probable; it was evident that Petrushka was not lying; that his insulting look and the phrase the 'other one' employed by hM
im were only the result of the disgusting circumstance with which he was already familiar, but still he understood, though dimly, that something was wrong, and that destiny had some other surprise, not altogether a pleasant one, in store for him.
"All right, we shall see," he thought to himself. "We shall see in due time; we'll get to the bottom of all this . . . Oh, Lord, have mercy upon us!" he moaned in conclusion, in quite a different voice. "And why did I invite him to what end did I do all that? Why, I am M
thrusting my head into their thievish noose myself; I am tying the noose with my own hands.
Ach, you fool, you fool! You can't resist babbling like some silly boy, some chancery clerk, some wretched creature of no class at all, some rag, some rotten dishcloth; you're a gossip, an old woman! . . . Oh, all ye saints! And he wrote verses, the rogue, and expressed his love for me! How could . . . How can I show him the door in a polite way if he turns up again, the rogue? Of course, there are all sorts of ways and mM
eans. I can say this is how it is, my salary being so limited . . . Or scare him off in some way saying that, taking this and that into consideration, I am forced to make clear . . . that he would have to pay an equal share of the cost of board and lodging, and pay the money in advance. H'm! No, damn it all, no! That would be degrading to me. It's not quite delicate! Couldn't I do something like this: suggest to Petrushka that he should annoy him in some way, should be disrespectful, be rude, and get rid of him in M
that way. Set them at each other in some way. . . . No, damn it all, no! It's dangerous and again, if one looks at it from that point of view - it's not the right thing at all! Not the right thing at all! But there, even if he doesn't come, it will be a bad look-out, too! I babbled to him last night! . . . Ach, it's a bad look-out, a bad look-out! Ach, we're in a bad way!
Oh, I'm a cursed fool, a cursed fool! you can't train yourself to behave as you ought, you can't conduct yourself reasonably. Well, what if heM
 comes and refuses. And God grant he may come! I should be very glad if he did come. . . ."
Such were Mr. Golyadkin's reflections as he swallowed his tea and glanced continually at the clock on the wall.
"It's a quarter to nine; it's time to go. And something will happen! What will there be there? I should like to know what exactly lies hidden in this - that is, the object, the aim, and the various intrigues. It would be a good thing to find out what all these people are plotting, and what will be their firstM
Mr. Golyadkin could endure it no longer. He threw down his unfinished pipe, dressed and set off for the office, anxious to ward off the danger if possible and to reassure himself about everything by his presence in person. There was danger: he knew himself that there was danger.
"We . . . will get to the bottom of it," said Mr. Golyadkin, taking off his coat and goloshes in the entry. "We'll go into all these matters immediately."
Making up his mind to act in this way, out hero put himself toM
 rights, assumed a correct and official air, and was just about to pass into the adjoining room, when suddenly, in the very doorway, he jostled against his acquaintance of the day before, his friend and companion. Mr. Golyadkin junior seemed not to notice Mr. Golyadkin senior, though they met almost nose to nose. Mr. Golyadkin junior seemed to be busy, to be hastening somewhere, was breathless; he had such an official, such a business-like air that it seemed as though any one could read his face: 'Entrusted with a M
special commission.' . . .
"Oh, it's you, Yakov Petrovitch!" said our hero, clutching the hand of his last night's visitor.
"Presently, presently, excuse me, tell me about it afterwards," cried Mr. Golyadkin junior, dashing on.
"But, excuse me; I believe, Yakov Petrovitch, you wanted . . ."
"What is it? Make haste and explain."
At this point his visitor of the previous night halted as though reluctantly and against his will, and put his ear almost to Mr. Golyadkin's nose.
"I must tell you, Yakov PM
etrovitch, that I am surprised at your behaviour . . . behaviour which seemingly I could not have expected at all."
"There's a proper form for everything. Go to his Excellency's secretary and then appeal in the proper way to the directors of the office. Have you got your petition?"
"You . . . I really don't know Yakov Petrovitch! You simply amaze me, Yakov Petrovitch! You certainly don't recognize me or, with characteristic gaiety, you are joking."
"Oh, it's you," said Mr. Golyadkin junior, seeming only noM
w to recognize Mr. Golyadkin senior. "So, it's you? Well, have you had a good night?"
Then smiling a little - a formal an conventional smile, by no means the sort of smile that was befitting (for, after all, he owed a debt of gratitude to Mr. Golyadkin senior) - smiling this formal and conventional smile, Mr. Golyadkin junior added that he was very glad Mr. Golyadkin senior had had a good night; then he made a slight bow and shuffling a little with his feet, looked to the right, and to the left, then dropped hisM
 eyes to the floor, made for the side door and muttering in a hurried whisper that he had a special commission, dashed into the next room. He vanished like an apparition.
"Well, this is queer!" muttered our hero, petrified for a moment; "this is queer! This is a strange circumstance."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin felt as though he had pins and needles all over him.
"However," he went on to himself, as he made his way to his department, "however, I spoke long ago of such a circumstance: I had a presentiment M
long ago that he had a special commission. Why, I said yesterday that the man must certainly be employed on some special commission."
"Have you finished copying out the document you had yesterday, Yakov Petrovitch," Anton Antonovitch Syetotchkin asked Mr. Golyadkin, when the latter was seated beside him. "Have you got it here?"
"Yes," murmured Mr. Golyadkin, looking at the head clerk with a rather helpless glance.
"That's right! I mention it because Andrey Filippovitch has asked for it twice. I'll be boundM
 his Excellency wants it. . . ."
"Yes, it's finished. . ."
"Well, that's all right then."
"I believe, Anton Antonovitch, I have always performed my duties properly. I'm always scrupulous over the work entrusted to me by my superiors, and I attend to it conscientiously."
"Yes. Why, what do you mean by that?"
"I mean nothing, Anton Antonovitch. I only want to explain, Anton Antonovitch, that I . . . that is, I meant to express that spite and malice sometimes spare no person whatever in their search forM
 their daily and revolting food. . . ."
"Excuse me, I don't quite understand you. What person are you alluding to?"
"I only meant to say, Anton Antonovitch, that I'm seeking the straight path and I scorn going to work in a roundabout way. That I am not one to intrigue, and that, if I may be allowed to say so, I may very justly be proud of it. . . ."
"Yes. That's quite so, and to the best of my comprehension I thoroughly endorse your remarks; but allow me to tell you, Yakov Petrovitch, that personalities arM
e not quite permissible in good society, that I, for instance, am ready to put up with anything behind my back - for every one's abused behind his back - but to my face, if you please, my good sir, I don't allow any one to be impudent. I've grown grey in the government service, sir, and I don't allow any one to be impudent to me in my old age. . . ."
"No, Anton Antonovitch . . . you see, Anton Antonovitch . . . you haven't quite caught my meaning. To be sure, Anton Antonovitch, I for my part could only thing it M
"Well, then, I ask pardon too. We've been brought up in the old school. And it's too late for us to learn your new-fangled ways. I believe we've had understanding enough for the service of our country up to now. As you are aware, sir, I have an order of merit for twenty-five years' irreproachable service. . . ."
"I feel it, Anton Antonovitch, on my side, too, I quite feel all that. But I didn't mean that, I am speaking of a mask, Anton Antonovitch. . . ."
"Again you . . . I amM
 apprehensive that you are taking this, too, in a wrong sense, that is the sense of my remarks, as you say yourself, Anton Antonovitch. I am simply enunciating a theory, that is, I am advancing the idea, Anton Antonovitch, that persons who wear a mask have become far from uncommon, and that nowadays it is hard to recognize the man beneath the mask . . ."
"Well, do you know, it's not altogether so hard. Sometimes it's fairly easy. Sometimes one need not go far to look for it."
"No, you know, Anton Antonovitch,M
 I say, I say of myself, that I, for instance, do not put on a mask except when there is need of it; that is simply at carnival time or at some festive gathering, speaking in the literal sense; but that I do not wear a mask before people in daily life, speaking in another less obvious sense. That's what I meant to say, Anton Antonovitch."
"Oh, well, but we must drop all this, for now I've no time to spare," said Anton Antonovitch, getting up from his seat and collecting some papers in order to report upon them tM
o his Excellency. "Your business, as I imagine, will be explained in due course without delay. You will see for yourself whom you should censure and whom you should blame, and thereupon I humbly beg you to spare me from further explanations and arguments which interfere with my work. . . ."
"No, Anton Antonovitch," Mr. Golyadkin, turning a little pale, began to the retreating figure of Anton Antonovitch; "I had no intention of the kind."
"What does it mean?" our hero went on to himself, when he was left aloneM
; "what quarter is the wind in now, and what is one to make of this new turn?"
At the very time when our bewildered and half-crushed hero was setting himself to solve this new question, there was a sound of movement and bustle in the next room, the door opened and Andrey Filippovitch, who had been on some business in his Excellency's study, appeared breathless in the doorway, and called to Mr. Golyadkin. Knowing what was wanted and anxious not to keep Andrey Filippovitch waiting, Mr. Golyadkin leapt up from his M
seat, and as was fitting immediately bustled for all he was worth getting the manuscript that was required finally neat and ready and preparing to follow the manuscript and Andrey Filippovitch into his Excellency's study. Suddenly, almost slipping under the arm of Andrey Filippovitch, who was standing right in the doorway, Mr. Golyadkin junior darted into the room in breathless haste and bustle, with a solemn and resolutely official air; he bounded straight up to Mr. Golyadkin senior, who was expecting nothing lessM
 than such a visitation.
"The papers, Yakov Petrovitch, the papers . . . his Excellency has been pleased to ask for them; have you got them ready?" Mr. Golyadkin senior's friend whispered in a hurried undertone. "Andrey Filippovitch is waiting for you. . . ."
"I know he is waiting without your telling me," said Mr. Golyadkin senior, also in a hurried whisper.
"No, Yakov Petrovitch, I did not mean that; I did not mean that at all, Yakov Petrovitch, not that at all; I sympathise with you, Yakov Petrovitch, aM
nd am humbly moved by genuine interest."
"Which I most humbly beg you to spare me. Allow me, allow me . . ."
"You'll put it in an envelope, of course, Yakov Petrovitch, and you'll put a mark in the third page; allow me, Yakov Petrovitch. . . ."
"You allow me, if you please . . ."
"But, I say, there's a blot here, Yakov Petrovitch; did you know there was a blot here? . . ."
At this point Andrey Filippovitch called Yakov Petrovitch a second time.
"One moment, Andrey Filippovitch, I'm only just . . .M
 Do you understand Russian, sir?"
"It would be best to take it out with a penknife, Yakov Petrovitch. You had better rely upon me; you had better not touch it yourself, Yakov Petrovitch, rely upon me - I'll do it with a penknife . . ."
Andrey Filippovitch called Mr. Golyadkin a third time.
"But, allow me, where's the blot? I don't think there's a blot at all."
"It's a huge blot. Here it is! Here, allow me, I saw it here . . . you just let me, Yakov Petrovitch, I'll just touch it with the penknife, I'll M
scratch it out with the penknife from true-hearted sympathy. There, life this; see, it's done."
At this point, and quite unexpectedly, Mr. Golyadkin junior overpowered Mr. Golyadkin senior in the momentary struggle that had arisen between them, and so, entirely against the latter's will, suddenly, without rhyme or reason, took possession of the document required by the authorities, and instead of scratching it out with the penknife in true-hearted sympathy as he had perfidiously promised Mr. Golyadkin senior, huM
rriedly rolled it up, put it under his arm, in two bounds was beside Andrey Filippovitch, who noticed none of his manoeuvres, and flew with the latter into the Director's room. Mr. Golyadkin remained as though rivetted to the spot, holding the penknife in his hand and apparently on the point of scratching something out with it . . .
Our hero could not yet grasp his new position. He could not at once recover himself. He felt the blow, but thought that it was somehow all right. In terrible, indescribable misery heM
 tore himself at last from his seat, rushed straight to the Director's room, imploring heaven on the way that it would be all right . . . In the furthest most room, which adjoined the Director's private room, he ran straight upon Andrey Filippovitch in company with his namesake. Both of them moved aside. Andrey Filippovitch was talking with a good-humoured smile, Mr. Golyadkin senior's namesake was smiling, too, fawning upon Andrey Filippovitch and tripping about at a respectful distance from him, and was whisperinM
g something in his ear with a delighted air, to which Andrey Filippovitch assented with a gracious nod. In a flash our hero grasped the whole position. The fact was that the work had surpassed his Excellency's expectations (as he learnt afterwards) and was finished punctually by the time it was needed. He Excellency was extremely pleased with it. It was even said that his excellency had said "Thank you" to Mr. Golyadkin junior, had thanked him warmly, had said that he would remember it on occasion and would never fM
orget it. . . . Of course, the first thing Mr. Golyadkin did was to protest, to protest with the utmost vigour of which he was capable. Pale as death, and hardly knowing what he was doing, he rushed up to Andrey Filippovitch. But the latter, hearing that Mr. Golyadkin's business was a private matter, refused to listen, observing firmly that he had not a minute to spare for his own affairs.
The curtness of his tone and his refusal struck Mr. Golyadkin.
"I had better, perhaps, try in another quarter . . . I hadM
 better appeal to Anton Antonovitch."
But to his disappointment Anton Antonovitch was not available either: he, too, was busy over something somewhere!
"Ah, it was not without design that he asked me to spare him explanation and discussion!" thought our hero. "This was what the old rogue had in his mind! In that case I shall simply make bold to approach his Excellency."
Still pale and feeling that his brain was in a complete ferment, greatly perplexed as to what he ought to decide to do, Mr. Golyadkin sat M
down on the edge of the chair. "It would have been a great deal better if it had all been just nothing," he kept incessantly thinking to himself. "Indeed, such a mysterious business was utterly improbable. In the first place, it was nonsense, and secondly it could not happen. Most likely it was imagination, or something else happened, and not what really did happen; or perhaps I went myself . . . and somehow mistook myself for some one else . . . in short, it's an utterly impossible thing."
Mr. Golyadkin had no M
sooner made up his mind that it was an utterly impossible thing that Mr. Golyadkin junior flew into the room with papers in both hands as well as under his arm. Saying two or three words about business to Andrey Filippovitch as he passed, exchanging remarks with one, polite greetings with another, and familiarities with a third, Mr. Golyadkin junior, having apparently no time to waste, seemed on the point of leaving the room, but luckily for Mr. Golyadkin senior he stopped near the door to say a few words as he pasM
sed two or three clerks who were at work there. Mr. Golyadkin senior rushed straight at him. As soon as Mr. Golyadkin junior saw Mr. Golyadkin senior's movement he began immediately, with great uneasiness, looking about him to make his escape. but our hero already held his last night's guest by the sleeve. The clerks surrounding the two titular councillors stepped back and waited with curiosity to see what would happen. The senior titular councillor realized that public opinion was not on his side, he realized thatM
 they were intriguing against him: which made it all the more necessary to hold his own now. The moment was a decisive one.
"Well!" said Mr. Golyadkin junior, looking rather impatiently at Mr. Golyadkin senior.
The latter could hardly breathe.
"I don't know," he began, "in what way to make plain to you the strangeness of your behaviour, sir."
"Well. Go on." At this point Mr. Golyadkin junior turned round and winked to the clerks standing round, as though to give them to understand that a comedy was begiM
"The impudence and shamelessness of your manners with me, sir, in the present case, unmasks your true character . . . better than any words of mine could do. Don't rely on your trickery: it is worthless. . . ."
"Come, Yakov Petrovitch, tell me now, how did you spend the night?" answered Mr. Golyadkin junior, looking Mr. Golyadkin senior straight in the eye.
"You forget yourself, sir," said the titular councillor, completely flabbergasted, hardly able to feel the floor under his feet. "I trust that yM
ou will take a different tone. . . ."
"My darling!" exclaimed Mr. Golyadkin junior, making a rather unseemly grimace at Mr. Golyadkin senior, and suddenly, quite unexpectedly, under the pretence of caressing him, he pinched his chubby cheek with two fingers.
Our hero grew as hot as fire . . . As soon as Mr. Golyadkin junior noticed that his opponent, quivering in every limb, speechless with rage, as red as a lobster, and exasperated beyond all endurance, might actually be driven to attack him, he promptly andM
 in the most shameless way hastened to be beforehand with his victim.
Patting him two or three times on the cheek, tickling him two or three times, playing with him for a few seconds in this way while his victim stood rigid and beside himself with fury to the no little diversion of the young men standing round, Mr. Golyadkin junior ended with a most revolting shamelessness by giving Mr. Golyadkin senior a poke in his rather prominent stomach, and with a most venomous and suggestive smile said to him: "You're misM
chievous brother Yakov, you are mischievous! We'll be sly, you and I, Yakov Petrovitch, we'll be sly."
Then, and before our hero could gradually come to himself after the last attack, Mr. Golyadkin junior (with a little smile beforehand to the spectators standing round) suddenly assumed a most businesslike, busy and official air, dropped his eyes to the floor and, drawing himself in, shrinking together, and pronouncing rapidly "on a special commission" he cut a caper with his short leg, and darted away into the M
next room. Our hero could not believe his eyes and was still unable to pull himself together. . .
At last he roused himself. Recognizing in a flash that he was ruined, in a sense annihilated, that he had disgraced himself and sullied his reputation, that he had been turned into ridicule and treated with contempt in the presence of spectators, that he had been treacherously insulted, by one whom he had looked on only the day before as his greatest and most trustworthy friend, that he had been put to utter confusiM
on, Mr. Golyadkin senior rushed in pursuit of his enemy. At the moment he would not even think of the witnesses of his ignominy.
"They're all in a conspiracy together," he said to himself; "they stand by each other and set each other on to attack me." After taking a dozen steps, however, our perceived clearly that all pursuit would be vain and useless, and so he turned back. "You won't get away," he thought, "you will get caught on day; the wolf will have to pay for the sheep's tears."
With ferocious composurM
e and the most resolute determination Mr. Golyadkin went up to his chair and sat down upon it. "You won't escape," he said again.
Now it was not a question of passive resistance: there was determination and pugnacity in the air, and any one who had seen how Mr. Golyadkin at that moment, flushed and scarcely able to restrain his excitement, stabbed his pen into the inkstand and with what fury he began scribbling on the paper, could be certain beforehand that the that the matter would not pass off like this, and cM
ould not end in a simple, womanish way. In the depth of his soul he formed a resolution, and in the depth of his heart swore to carry it out. To tell the truth he still did not quite know how to act, or rather did not know at all, but never mind, that did not matter!
"Imposture and shamelessness do not pay nowadays, sir. Imposture and shamelessness, sir, lead to no good, but lead to the halter. Grishka Otrepyov was the only one, sir, who gained by imposture, deceiving the blind people and even that not for long.M
In spite of this last circumstance Mr. Golyadkin proposed to wait til such time as the mask should fall from certain persons and something should be made manifest. For this it was necessary, in the first place, that office hours should be over as soon as possible, and till then our hero proposed to take no step. He knew then how he must act after taking that step, how to arrange his whole plan of action, to abase the horn of arrogance and crush the snake gnawing the dust in contemptible impotence. To allow himM
self to be treated like a rag used for wiping dirty boots, Mr. Golyadkin could not. He could not consent to that, especially in the present case.
Had it not been for that last insult, our hero might have, perhaps, brought himself to control his anger; he might, perhaps, have been silent, have submitted and not have protested too obstinately; he would just have disputed a little, have made a slight complaint, have proved that he was in the right, then he would have given way a little, then, perhaps, he would haveM
 given way a little more, then he would have come round altogether, then, especially when the opposing party solemnly admitted that he was right, perhaps, he would have overlooked it completely, would even have been a little touched, there might even, perhaps - who could tell - spring up a new, close, warm friendship, on an even broader basis than the friendship of last night, so that this friendship might, in the end, completely eclipse the unpleasantness of the rather unseemly resemblance of the two individuals, M
so that both the titular councillors might be highly delighted, and might go on living till they were a hundred, and so on. To tell the whole truth, Mr. Golyadkin began to regret a little that he had stood up for himself and his rights, and had at once come in for unpleasantness in consequence.
"Should he give in," thought Mr. Golyadkin, "say he was joking, I would forgive him. I would forgive him even more if he would acknowledge it aloud. but I won't let myself be treated like a rag. And I have not allowed eveM
n persons very different from him to treat me so, still less will I permit a depraved person to attempt it. I am not a rag. I am not a rag, sir!"
In short, our hero made up his mind "You're in fault yourself, sir!" he thought. He made up his mind to protest with all his might to the very last. That was the sort of man he was! He could not consent to allow himself to be insulted, still less to allow himself to be treated as a rag, and, above all, to allow a thoroughly vicious man to treat him so. No quarrelling, M
however, no quarrelling! Possibly if some one wanted, if some one, for instance, actually insisted on turning Mr. Golyadkin into rag, he might have done so, might have might have done so without opposition or punishment (Mr. Golyadkin was himself conscious of this at times), and he would have been a rag and not Golyadkin - yes, a nasty, filthy rag; but that rag would not have been a simple rag, it would have been a rag possessed of dignity, it would have been a rag possessed of feelings and sentiments, even though M
dignity was defenceless and feelings could not assert themselves, and lay hidden deep down in the filthy folds of the rag, still thee feelings were there . . .
The hours dragged on incredibly slowly; at last it struck four. Soon after, all got up and, following the head of the department, moved each on his homeward way. Mr. Golyadkin mingled with the crowd; he kept a vigilant look out, and did not lose sight of the man he wanted. At last our hero saw hat his friend ran up to the office attendants who handed the M
clerks their overcoats, and hung about near them waiting for his in his usual nasty way. The minute was a decisive one. Mr. Golyadkin forced his way somehow through the crowd and, anxious not to be left behind, he, too, began fussing about his overcoat. But Mr. Golyadkin's friend and companion was given his overcoat first because on this occasion, too, he had succeeded, as he always did, in making up to them, whispering something to them, cringing upon them and getting round them.
After putting on his overcoat, M
Mr. Golyadkin junior glanced ironically at Mr. Golyadkin senior, acting in this way openly and defiantly, looked about him with his characteristic insolence, finally he tripped to and fro among the other clerks - no doubt in order to leave a good impression on them - said a word to one, whispered something to another, respectfully accosted a third, directed a smile at a fourth, gave his hand to a fifth, and gaily darted downstairs. Mr. Golyadkin senior flew after him, and to his inexpressible delight overtook him oM
n the last step, and seized him by the collar of his overcoat. It seemed as though Mr. Golyadkin junior was a little disconcerted, and he looked about him with a helpless air.
"What do you mean by this?" he whispered to Mr. Golyadkin at last, in a weak voice.
"Sir, if you are a gentleman, I trust that you remember our friendly relations yesterday," said out hero.
"Ah, yes! Well? Did you sleep well?"
Fury rendered Mr. Golyadkin senior speechless for a moment.
"I slept well, sir . . . but allow me to tM
ell you, sir, that you are playing a very complicated game . . ."
"Who says so? My enemies say that," answered abruptly the man who called himself Mr. Golyadkin, and saying this, he unexpectedly freed himself from the feeble hand of the real Mr. Golyadkin. As soon as he was free he rushed away from the stairs, looked around him, saw a cab, ran up to it, got in, and in one moment vanished from Mr. Golyadkin senior's sight. The despairing titular councillor, abandoned by all, gazed about him, but there was no otheM
r cab. He tried to run, but his legs gave way under him. With a look of open-mouthed astonishment on his countenance, feeling crushed and shrivelled up, he leaned helplessly against a lamp post, and remained so for some minutes in the middle of the pavement. It seemed as though all were over for Mr. Golyadkin.
Everything, apparently, and even nature itself, seemed up in arms against Mr. Golyadkin; but he was still on his legs and unconquered; he felt that he was unconquered. He was ready to strugM
gle. he rubbed his hands with such feeling and such energy when he recovered from his first amazement that it could be deduced from his very air that he would not give in. yet the danger was imminent; it was evident; Mr. Golyadkin felt it; but how to grapple with it, with this danger? - that was the question. the thought even flashed through Mr. Golyadkin's mind for a moment, "After all, why not leave it so, simply give up? Why, what is it? Why, it's nothing. I'll keep apart as though it were not I," thought Mr. GoM
lyadkin. "I'll let it all pass; it's not I, and that's all about it; he's separate too, maybe he'll give it up too; he'll hang about, the rascal, he'll hang about. He'll come back and give it up again. Than's how it will be! I'll take it meekly. And, indeed, where is the danger? Come, what danger is there? I should like any one to tell me where the danger lies in this business. It is a trivial affair. An everyday affair. . . ."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin's tongue failed; the words died away on his lips; he evenM
 swore at himself for this thought; he convicted himself on the spot of abjectness, of cowardice for having this thought; things were no forwarder, however. He felt that to make up his mind to some course of action was absolutely necessary for him at the moment; he even felt that he would have given a great deal to any one who could have told him what he must decide to do. Yes, but how could he guess what? Though, indeed, he had no time to guess. In any case, that he might lose no time he took a cab and dashed homeM
"Well? What are you feeling now?" he wondered; "what are you graciously pleased to be thinking of, Yakov Petrovitch? What are you doing? What are you doing now, you rogue, you rascal? You've brought yourself to this plight, and now you are weeping and whimpering!"
So Mr. Golyadkin taunted himself as he jolted along in the vehicle. To taunt himself and so to irritate his wounds was, at this time, a great satisfaction to Mr. Golyadkin, almost a voluptuous enjoyment.
"Well," he thought, "if some magician weM
re to turn up now, or if it could come to pass in some official way and I were told: 'Give a finger of your right hand, Golyadkin - and it's a bargain with you; there shall not be the other Golyadkin, and you will be happy, only you won't have your finger' - yes, I would sacrifice my finger, I would certainly sacrifice it, I would sacrifice it without winking. . . . The devil take it all!" the despairing titular councillor cried at last. "Why, what is it all for? Well, it all had to be; yes, it absolutely had to; yM
es, just this had to be, as though nothing else were possible! And it was all right at first. Every one was pleased and happy. But there, it had to be! There's nothing to be gained by talking, though; you must act."
And so, almost resolved upon some action, Mr. Golyadkin reached home, and without a moment's delay snatched up his pipe and, sucking at it with all his might and puffing out clouds of smoke to right and to left, he began pacing up and down the room in a state of violent excitement. Meanwhile, PetrushM
ka began laying the table. At last Mr. Golyadkin made up his mind completely, flung aside his pipe, put on his overcoat, said he would not dine at home and ran out of the flat. Petrushka, panting, overtook him on the stairs, bringing the hat he had forgotten. Mr. Golyadkin took his hat, wanted to say something incidentally to justify himself in Petrushka's eyes that the latter might not think anything particular, such as, "What a queer circumstance! here he forgot his hat - and so on," but as Petrushka walked away M
at once and would not even look at him, Mr. Golyadkin put on his hat without further explanation, ran downstairs, and repeating to himself that perhaps everything might be for the best, and that affairs would somehow be arranged, though he was conscious among other things of a cold chill right down to his heels, he went out into the street, took a cab and hastened to Andrey Filippovitch's.
"Would it not be better tomorrow, though?" thought Mr. Golyadkin, as he took hold of the bell-rope of Andrey Filippovitch's M
flat. "And, besides, what can I say in particular? There is nothing particular in it. It's such a wretched affair, yes, it really is wretched, paltry, yes, that is, almost a paltry affair . . . yes, that's what it is, the incident . . . Suddenly Mr. Golyadkin pulled at the bell; the bell rang; footsteps were heard within . . . Mr. Golyadkin cursed himself on the spot for his hastiness and audacity. His recent unpleasant experiences, which he had almost forgotten over his work, and his encounter with Andrey FilippovM
itch immediately cam back into his mind. But by now it was too late to run away: the door opened. Luckily for Mr. Golyadkin he was informed that Andrey Filippovitch had not returned from the office and had not dined at home.
"I know where he dines: he dines near the Ismailovsky Bridge," thought our hero; and he was immensely relieved. To the footman's inquiry what message he would leave, he said: "It's all right, my good man, I'll look in later," and he even ran downstairs with a certain cheerful briskness. GoinM
g out into the street, he decided to dismiss the cab and paid the driver. When the man asked for something extra, saying he had been waiting in the street and had not spared his horse for his honour, he gave him five kopecks extra, and even willingly; and then walked on.
"It really is such a thing," thought Mr. Golyadkin, "that it cannot be left like that; though, if one looks at it that way, looks at it sensibly, why am I hurrying about here, in reality? Well, yes, though, I will go on discussing why I should tM
ake a lot of trouble; why I should rush about, exert myself, worry myself and wear myself out. To begin with, the thing's done and there's no recalling it . . . of course, there's no recalling it! Let us put it like this: a man turns up with a satisfactory reference, said to be a capable clerk, of good conduct, only he is a poor man and has suffered many reverses - all sorts of ups and downs - well, poverty is not a crime: so I must stand aside. Why, what nonsense it is! Well, he came; he is so made, the man is so M
made by nature itself that he is as like another man as though they were two drops of water, as though he were a perfect copy of another man; how could they refuse to take him into the department on that account? If it is fate, if it is only fate, if it only blind chance that is to blame - is he to be treated like a rag, is he to be refused a job in the office? . . . Why, what would become of justice after that? He is a poor man, hopeless, downcast; it makes one's heart ache: compassion bids one care for him! Yes! M
There's no denying, there would be a fine set of head officials, if they took the same view as a reprobate like me! What an addlepate I am! I have foolishness enough for a dozen! Yes, yes! They did right, and many thanks to them for being good to a poor, luckless fellow . . . Why, let us imagine for a moment that we are twins, that we had been born twin brothers, and nothing else - there it is! Well, what of it? Why, nothing! All the clerks can get used to it . . . And an outsider, coming into our office, would cerM
tainly find nothing unseemly or offensive in the circumstance. In fact, there is really something touching it; to think that the divine Providence created two men exactly alike, and the heads of the department, seeing the divine handiwork, provided for two twins. It would, of course," Mr. Golyadkin went on, drawing a breath and dropping his voice, "it would, of course . . . it would, of course, have been better if there had been . . . if there had been nothing of this touching kindness, and if there had been no twiM
ns either . . . The devil take it all! And what need was there for it? And what was the particular necessity that admitted of no delay! My goodness! The devil has made a mess of it! Besides, he has such a character, too, he's of such a playful, horrid disposition - he's such a scoundrel, he's such a nimble fellow! He's such a toady! Such a lickspittle! He's such a Golyadkin! I daresay he will misconduct himself; yes, he'll disgrace my name, the blackguard! And now I have to look after hm and wait upon him! What an M
infliction! But, after all, what of it? It doesn't matter. Granted, he's a scoundrel, well, let him be a scoundrel, but to make up for it, the other one's honest; so he will be a scoundrel and I'll be honest, and they'll say that this Golyadkin's a rascal, don't take any notice of him, and don't mix him up with the other; but the other one's honest, virtuous, mild, free from malice, always to be relied upon in the service, and worthy of promotion; that's how it is, very good . . . but what if . . . what if they getM
 us mixed up! . . . He is equal to anything! Ah, Lord, have mercy upon us! . . . He will counterfeit a man, he will counterfeit him, the rascal - he will change one man for another as though he were a rag, and not reflect that a man is not a rag. Ach, mercy on us! Ough, what a calamity!" . . .
Reflecting and lamenting in this way, Mr. Golyadkin ran on, regardless of where he was going. He came to his senses in Nevsky Prospect, only owing to the chance that he ran so neatly full-tilt into a passer-by that he saw M
stars in his eyes. Mr. Golyadkin muttered his excuses without raising his head, and it was only after the passer-by, muttering something far from flattering, had walked a considerable distance away, that he raised his nose and looked about to see where he was and how he had got there. Noticing when he did so that he was close to the restaurant in which he had sat for a while before the dinner-part at Olsufy Ivanovitch's, our hero was suddenly conscious of a pinching and nipping sensation in his stomach; he rememberM
ed that he had not dined; he had no prospect of a dinner-party anywhere. And so, without losing precious time, he ran upstairs into the restaurant to have a snack of something as quickly as possible, and to avoid delay by making all the haste he could. And though everything in the restaurant was rather dear, that little circumstance did not on this occasion make Mr. Golyadkin pause, and, indeed, he had no time to pause over such a trifle. In the brightly lighted room the customers were standing in rather a crowd roM
und the counter, upon which lay heaps of all sorts of such edibles as are eaten by well-bred person's at lunch. The waiter scarcely had time to fill glasses, to serve, to take money and give change. Mr. Golyadkin waited for his turn and modestly stretched out his had for a savoury patty. Retreating into a corner, turning his back on the company and eating with appetite, he went back to the attendant, put down his plate and, knowing the price, took out a ten-kopeck piece and laid the coin on the counter, catching thM
e waiter's eye as though to say, "Look, here's the money, one pie," and so on.
"One rouble ten kopecks is your bill," the waiter filtered through his teeth.
Mr. Golyadkin was a good deal surprised.
"You are speaking to me? . . . I . . . I took one pie, I believe."
"You've had eleven," the man said confidently.
"You . . . so it seems to me . . . I believe, you're mistaken . . . I really took only one pie, I think."
"I counted them; you took eleven. Since you've had them you must pay for them; we doM
n't give anything away for nothing."
Mr. Golyadkin was petrified. "What sorcery is this, what is happening to me?" he wondered. Meanwhile, the man waited for Mr. Golyadkin to make up his mind; people crowded round Mr. Golyadkin; he was already feeling in his pocket for a silver rouble, to pay the full amount at once, to avoid further trouble. "Well, if it was eleven, it was eleven," he thought, turning as red as a lobster. "Why, a man's hungry, so he eats eleven pies; well, let him eat, and may it do him good; aM
nd there's nothing to wonder at in that, and there's nothing to laugh at . . . "
At that moment something seemed to stab Mr. Golyadkin. He raised his eyes and - at once he guessed he riddle. He knew what the sorcery was. All his difficulties were solved . . .
In the doorway of the next room, almost directly behind the waiter and facing Mr. Golyadkin, in the doorway which, till that moment, our hero had taken for a looking-glass, a man was standing - he was standing, Mr. Golyadkin was standing - not the originM
al Mr. Golyadkin, the hero of our story, but the other Mr. Golyadkin, the new Mr. Golyadkin. The second Mr. Golyadkin was apparently in excellent spirits. He smiled to Mr. Golyadkin the first, nodded to him, winked, shuffled his feet a little, and looked as though in another minute he would vanish, would disappear into the next room, and then go out, maybe, by a back way out; and there it would be, and all pursuit would be in vain. In his hand he had the last morsel of the tenth pie, and before Mr. Golyadkin's veryM
 eyes he popped it into his mouth and smacked his lips.
"He had impersonated me, the scoundrel!" thought Mr. Golyadkin, flushing hot with shame. "He is not ashamed of the publicity of it! Do they see him? I fancy no one notices him . . . "
Mr. Golyadkin threw down his rouble as though it burnt his fingers, and without noticing the waiter's insolently significant grin, a smile of triumph and serene power, he extricated himself from the crowd, and rushed away without looking round. "We must be thankful that at M
least he has not completely compromised anyone!" thought Mr. Golyadkin senior. "We must be thankful to him, the brigand, and to fate, that everything was satisfactorily settled. The waiter was rude, that was all. But, after all, he was in the right. One rouble and ten kopecks were owing: so he was in the right. 'We don't give things away for nothing,' he said! Though he might have been more polite, the rascal . . ."
All this Mr. Golyadkin said to himself as he went downstairs to the entrance, but on the last steM
p he stopped suddenly, as though he had been shot, and suddenly flushed till the tears came into his eyes at the insult to his dignity. After standing stockstill for half a minute, he stamped his foot, resolutely, at one bound leapt from the step into the street and, without looking round, rushed breathless and unconscious of fatigue back home, without changing his coat, though it was his habit to change into an old coat at home, without even stopping to take his pipe, he sat down on the sofa, drew the inkstand towM
ards him, took up a pen, got a sheet of notepaper, and with a hand that trembled from inward excitement, began scribbling the following epistle,
"Dear Sir Yakov Petrovitch!
"I should not take up my pen if my circumstances, and your own action, sir, had not compelled me to that step. Believe me that nothing but necessity would have induced me to enter upon such a discussion with you and therefore, first of all, I beg you, sir, to look upon this step of mine not as a premeditated design to insult you, but as thM
e inevitable consequence of the circumstance that is a bond between us now."
("I think that's all right, proper courteous, though not lacking in force and firmness . . . I don't think there is anything for him to take offence at. Besides, I'm fully within my rights," thought Mr. Golyadkin, reading over what he had written.)
"Your strange and sudden appearance, sir, on a stormy night, after the coarse and unseemly behavious of my enemies to me, for whom I feel too much contempt even to mention their names, wasM
 the starting-point of all the misunderstanding existing between us at the present time. Your obstinate desire to persist in your course of action, sir, and forcibly to enter the circle of my existence and all my relations in practical life, transgresses every limit imposed by the merest politeness and every rule of civilized society. I imagine there is no need, sir, for me to refer to the seizure by you of my papers, and particularly to your taking away my good name, in order to gain the favour of my superiors - fM
avour you have not deserved. There is no need to refer here either to your intentional and insulting refusal of the necessary explanation in regard to us. Finally, to omit nothing, I will not allude here to your last strange, on my even say, your incomprehensible behaviour to me in the coffee-house. I am far from lamenting over the needless - for me - loss of a rouble; but I cannot help expressing my indignation at the recollection of your public outrage upon me, to the detriment of my honour, and what is more, in M
the presence of several persons of good breeding, though not belonging to my circle of acquaintance."
("Am I not going too far?" thought Mr. Golyadkin. "Isn't it too much; won't it be too insulting - that taunt about good breeding, for instance? . . . But there, it doesn't matter! I must show him the resoluteness of my character. I might, however, to soften him, flatter him, and butter him up at the end. But there, we shall see.")
"But I should not weary you with my letter, sir, if I were not firmly convincedM
 that the nobility of your sentiments and your open, candid character would suggest to you yourself a means for retrieving all lapses and returning everything to its original position.
"With full confidence I venture to rest assured that you will not take my letter in a sense derogatory to yourself, and at the same time that you will not refuse to explain yourself expressly on this occasion by letter, sending the same by my man. "In expectation of your reply, I have the honour, dear sir, to remain, "Your humble M
servant, "Y. Golyadkin."
"Well, that is quite all right. The thing's done, it has come to letter-writing. But who is to blame for that? He is to blame himself: by his own action he reduces a man to the necessity of resorting to epistolary composition. And I am within my rights. . . ."
Reading over his letter for the last time, Mr. Golyadkin folded it up, sealed it and called Petrushka. Petrushka came in looking, as usual, sleepy and cross about something.
"You will take this letter, my boy . . . do you undM
Petrushka did not speak.
"You will take it to the department; there you must find the secretary on duty, Vahramyev. He is the one on duty today. Do you understand that?"
"'I understand'! He can't even say, 'I understand, sir!' You must ask the secretary, Vahramyev, and tell him that your master desired you to send his regards, and humbly requests him to refer to the address book of our office and find out where the titular councillor, Golyadkin, is living?"
d mute, and, as Mr. Golyadkin fancied, smiled.
"Well, so you see, Pyotr, you have to ask him for the address, and find out where the new clerk, Golyadkin, lives."
"You must ask for the address and then take this letter there. Do you understand?"
"If there . . . where you have to take the letter, that gentleman to whom you have to give the letter, that Golyadkin . . . What are you laughing at, you blockhead?"
"What is there to laugh at? What is it to me! I wasn't doing anythiM
ng, sir. it's not for the likes of us to laugh. . . ."
"Oh, well . . . if that gentleman should ask, 'How is your master, how is he'; if he . . . well, if he should ask you anything - you hold your tongue, and answer, 'My master is all right and begs you for an answer to his letter.' Do you understand?"
"Well, then, say, 'My master is all right and quite well,' say 'and is just getting ready to pay a call: and he asks you,' say, 'for an answer in writing.' Do you understand?"
"Why, what a bother I have with this blockhead too! He's laughing, and there's nothing to be done. What's he laughing at? I've lived to see trouble. Here I've lived like this to see trouble. Though perhaps it may all turn out for the best. . . . That rascal will be loitering about for the next two hours now, I expect; he'll go off somewhere else. . . . There's no sending him anywhere. What a misery it is! . . . What misery has come upon me!"
Feeling his troubles to the full, our hero made uM
p his mind to remain passive for two hours till Petrushka returned. For an hour of the time he walked about the room, smoked, then put aside his pipe and sat down to a book, then he lay down on the sofa, then took up his pipe again, then again began running about the room. He tried to think things over but was absolutely unable to think about anything. At last the agony of remaining passive reached the climax and Mr. Golyadkin made up his mind to take a step. "Petrushka will come in another hour," he thought. "I caM
n give the key to the porter, and I myself can, so to speak . . . I can investigate the matter: I shall investigate the matter in my own way."
Without loss of time, in haste to investigate the matter, Mr. Golyadkin took his hat, went out of the room, locked up his flat, went in to the porter, gave him the key, together with ten kopecks - Mr. Golyadkin had become extraordinarily free-handed of late - and rushed off. Mr. Golyadkin went first on foot to the Ismailovsky Bridge. It took him half an hour to get there.M
 When he reached to goal of his journey he went straight into the yard of the house so familiar to him, and glanced up at the windows of the civil councillor Berendyev's flat. Except for three windows hung with red curtains all the rest was dark.
"Olsufy Ivanovitch has no visitors today," thought Mr. Golyadkin; "they must all be staying at home today."
After standing for some time in the yard, our hero tried to decide on some course of action. but he was apparently not destined to reach a decision. Mr. GolyadM
kin changed his mind, and with a wave of his hand went back into the street.
"No, there's no need for me to go today. What could I do here? . . . No, I'd better, so to speak . . . I'll investigate the matter personally."
Coming to this conclusion, Mr. Golyadkin rushed off to his office. He had a long way to go. It was horribly muddy, besides, and the wet snow lay about in thick drifts. But it seemed as though difficulty did not exist for our hero at the moment. He was drenched through, it is true, and he was M
a good deal spattered with mud.
"But that's no matter, so long as the object is obtained."
And Mr. Golyadkin certainly was nearing his goal. The dark mass of the huge government building stood up black before his eyes.
"Stay," he thought; "where am I going, and what am I going to do here? Suppose I do find out where he lives? Meanwhile, Petrushka will certainly have come back and brought me the answer. I am only wasting my precious time, I am simply wasting my time. Though shouldn't I, perhaps, go in and sM
ee Vahramyev? But, no, I'll go later. . . . Ech! There was no need to have gone out at all. But, there, it's my temperament! I've a knack of always seizing a chance of rushing ahead of things, whether there is a need to or not. . . . H'm! . . . what time is it? It must be nine by now. Petrushka might come and not find me at home. It was pure folly on my part to go out. . . Ech, it is really a nuisance!"
Sincerely acknowledging that he had been guilty of an act of folly, our hero ran back to Shestilavotchny StreeM
t. He arrived there, weary and exhausted. From the porter he learned that Petrushka has not dreamed of turning up yet.
"To be sure! I foresaw it would be so," thought our hero; and meanwhile it's nine o'clock. Ech, he's such a good-for-nothing chap! He's always drinking somewhere! Mercy on us! What a day had fallen to my miserable lot!"
Reflecting in this way, Mr. Golyadkin unlocked his flat, got a light, took off his outdoor things, lighted his pipe and, tired, worn-out, exhausted and hungry, lay down on theM
 sofa and waited for Petrushka. The candle burnt dimly; the light flickered on the wall. . . . Mr. Golyadkin gazed and gazed, and thought and thought, and fell asleep at last, worn out.
It was late when he woke up. The candle had almost burnt down, was smoking and on the point of going out. Mr. Golyadkin jumped up, shook himself, and remembered it all, absolutely all. behind the screen he heard Petrushka snoring lustily. Mr. Golyadkin rushed to the window - not a light anywhere. he opened the movable pane - all M
was still; the city was asleep as though it were dead: so it must have been two or three o'clock; so it proved to be, indeed; the clock behind the partition made an effort and struck two. Mr. Golyadkin rushed behind the partition.
He succeeded, somehow, though only after great exertions, in rousing Petrushka, and making him sit up in his bed. At that moment the candle went out completely. About ten minutes passed before Mr. Golyadkin succeeded in finding another candle and lighting it. In the interval Petrushka M
had fallen asleep again.
"You scoundrel, you worthless fellow!" said Mr. Golyadkin, shaking him up again. "Will you get up, will you wake?" After half an hour of effort Mr. Golyadkin succeeded, however, in rousing his servant thoroughly, and dragging him out from behind the partition. Only then, our hero remarked the fact that Petrushka was what is called dead-drunk and could hardly stand on his legs.
"You good-for-nothing fellow!" cried Mr. Golyadkin; "you ruffian! You'll be the death of me! Good heavens! whM
atever has he done with the letter? Ach, my God! where is it? . . . And why did I write it? As though there were any need for me to have written it! I went scribbling away out of pride, like a noodle! I've got myself into this fix out of pride! That is what dignity does for you, you rascal, that is dignity! . . . Come, what have you done with the letter, you ruffian? To whom did you give it?"
"I didn't give any one any letter; and I never had any letter . . . so there!"
Mr. Golyadkin wrung his hands in despaiM
"Listen, Pyotr . . . listen to me, listen to me . . ."
"I am listening . . ."
"Where have you been? - answer . . ."
"Where have I been . . . I've been to see good people! What is it to me!"
"Oh, Lord, have mercy on us! Where did you go, to begin with? Did you go to the department? . . . Listen, Pyotr, perhaps you're drunk?"
"Me drunk! If I should be struck on the spot this minute, not a drop, not a drop - so there. . . ."
"No, no, it's no matter you're being drunk. . . . I only asked; it's aM
ll right your being drunk; I don't mind, Petrushka, I don't mind. . . . Perhaps it's only that you have forgotten, but you'll remember it all. Come, try to remember - have you been to that clerk's, to Vahramyev's; have you been to him or not?"
"I have not been, and there's no such clerk. Not if I were this minute . . ."
"No, no, Pyotr! No, Petrushka, you know I don't mind. Why, you see I don't mind. . . . Come, what happened? To be sure, it's cold and damp in the street, and so a man has a drop, and it's no mM
atter. I am not angry. I've been drinking myself today, my boy. . . . Come, think and try and remember, did you go to Vahramyev?"
"Well, then, now, this is how it was, it's the truth - I did go, if this very minute . . ."
"Come, that is right, Petrushka, that is quite right that you've been. you see I'm not angry. . . . Come, come," our hero went on, coaxing his servant more and more, patting him on the shoulder and smiling to him, "come, you had a little nip, you scoundrel. . . . You had two-penn'orth of somM
ething I suppose? You're a sly rogue! Well, that's no matter; come, you see that I'm not angry . . . . I'm not angry, my boy, I'm not angry. . . ."
"No, I'm not a sly rogue, say what you like. . . . I only went to see some good friends. I'm not a rogue, and I never have been a rogue. . . ."
"Oh, no, no, Petrushka; listen, Petrushka, you know I'm not scolding when I called you a rogue. I said that in fun, I said it in a good sense. You see, Petrushka, it is sometimes a compliment to a man when you call him a rM
ogue, a cunning fellow, that he's a sharp chap and would not let any one take him in. Some men like it . . . Come, come, it doesn't matter! Come, tell me, Petrushka, without keeping anything back, openly, as to a friend . . . did you go to Vahramyev's, and did he give you the address?"
"He did give me the address, he did give me the address too. He's a nice gentleman! 'You master,' says he, 'is a nice man,' says he, 'very nice man;' says he, 'I send my regards,' says he, 'to your master, thank him and say that IM
 like him,' says he - 'how I do respect your master,' says he. 'Because,' says he, 'your master, Petrushka,' says he, 'is a good man, and you,' says he, 'Petrushka, are a good man too . . . .'"
"Ah, mercy on us! But the address, the address! You Judas!" The last word Mr. Golyadkin uttered almost in a whisper.
"And the address . . . he did give the address too."
"He did? Well, where does Golyadkin, the clerk Golyadkin, the titular councillor, live?"
"'Why,' says he, 'Golyadkin will be now at ShestilavotcM
hny Street. When you get into Shestilavotchny Street take the stairs on the right and it's on the fourth floor. And there,' says he, 'you'll find Golyadkin. . . ."
"You scoundrel!" our hero cried, out of patience at last. "You're a ruffian! Why, that's my address; why, you are talking about me. But there's another Golyadkin; I'm talking about the other one, you scoundrel!"
"Well, that's as you please! What is it to me? Have it your own way . . ."
"And the letter, the letter?" . . .
"What letter? There wM
asn't any letter, and I didn't see any letter."
"But what have you done with it, you rascal?"
"I delivered the letter, I delivered it. He sent his regards. 'Thank you,' says he, 'your master's a nice man,' says he. 'Give my regards,' says he, 'to your master. . . .'"
"But who said that? Was it Golyadkin said it?"
Petrushka said nothing for a moment, and then, with a broad grin, he stared straight into his master's face. . . .
"Listen, you scoundrel!" began Mr. Golyadkin, breathless, beside himself wiM
th fury; "listen, you rascal, what have you done to me? Tell me what you've done to me! You've destroyed me, you villain, you've cut the head off my shoulders, you Judas!"
"Well, have it your own way! I don't care," said Petrushka in a resolute voice, retreating behind the screen.
"Come here, come here, you ruffian. . . ."
"I'm not coming to you now, I'm not coming at all. What do I care, I'm going to good folks. . . . Good folks live honestly, good folks live without falsity, and they never have doubles. M
Mr. Golyadkin's hands and feet went icy cold, his breath failed him. . . .
"Yes," Petrushka went on, "they never have doubles. God doesn't afflict honest folk. . . ."
"You worthless fellow, you are drunk! Go to sleep now, you ruffian! And tomorrow you'll catch it," Mr. Golyadkin added in a voice hardly audible. As for Petrushka, he muttered something more; then he could be heard getting into bed, making the bed creak. After a prolonged yawn, he stretched; and at last began snoring, and slept the sleM
ep of the just, as they say. Mr. Golyadkin was more dead than alive. Petrushka's behaviour, his very strange hints, which were yet so remote that it was useless to be angry at them, especially as they were uttered by a drunken man, and, in short, the sinister turn taken by the affair altogether, all this shook Mr. Golyadkin to the depths of his being.
"And what possessed me to go for him in the middle of the night?" said our hero, trembling all over from a sickly sensation. "What the devil made me have anything M
to do with a drunken man! What could I expect from a drunken man? Whatever he says is a lie. But what was he hinting at, the ruffian? Lord, have mercy on us! And why did I write that letter? I'm my own enemy, I'm my own murderer! As if I couldn't hold my tongue? I had to go scribbling nonsense! And what now! You are going to ruin, you are like an old rag, and yet you worry about your pride; you say, 'my honour is wounded,' you must stick up for your honour! Mr own murderer, that is what I am!"
yadkin and hardly dared to stir for terror. At last his eyes fastened upon an object which excited his interest to the utmost. In terror lest the object that caught his attention should prove to be an illusion, a deception of his fancy, he stretched out his hand to it with hope, with dread, with indescribable curiosity. . . . No, it was not a deception Not a delusion! It was a letter, really a letter, undoubtedly a letter, and addressed to him. Mr. Golyadkin took the letter from the table. His heart beat terribly.
"No doubt that scoundrel brought it," he thought, "put it there, and then forgot it; no doubt that is how it happened: no doubt that is just how it happened. . . ."
The letter was from Vahramyev, a young fellow-clerk who had once been his friend. "I had a presentiment of this, thought," thought our hero, "and I had a presentiment of all that there will be in the letter. . . ." The letter was as follows -
"Dear Sir Yakov Petrovitch!
"Your servant is drunk, and there is no getting any sense out of him. FoM
r that reason I prefer to reply by letter. I hasten to inform you that the commission you've entrusted to me - that is, to deliver a letter to a certain person you know, I agree to carry out carefully and exactly. That person, who is very well known to you and who has taken the place of a friend to me, whose name I will refrain from mentioning (because I do not wish unnecessarily to blacken the reputation of a perfectly innocent man), lodges with us at Karolina Ivanovna's, in the room in which, when you were among M
us, the infantry officer from Tambov used to be. That person, however, is always to be found in the company of honest and true-hearted persons, which is more than one can say for some people. I intend from this day to break off all connection with you; it's impossible for us to remain on friendly terms and to keep up the appearance of comradeship congruous with them. And, therefore, I beg you, dear sir, immediately on the receipt of this candid letter from me, to send me the two roubles you owe me for the razor of M
foreign make which I sold you seven months ago, if you will kindly remember, when you were still living with us in the lodgings of Karolina Ivanovna, a lady whom I respect from the bottom of my heart.
I am acting in this way because you, from the accounts I hear from sensible persons, have lost your dignity and reputation and have become a source of danger to the morals of the innocent and uncontaminated. For some persons are not straightforward, their words are full of falsity and their show of good intentions M
is suspicious. People can always be found capable of insulting Karolina Ivanovna, who is always irreproachable in her conduct, and an honest woman, and, what's more, a maiden lady, though no longer young - though, on the other hand, of a good foreign family - and this fact I've been asked to mention in this letter by several persons, and I speak also for myself. In any case you will learn all in due time, if you haven't learnt it yet, though you've made yourself notorious from one end of the town to the other, accoM
rding to the accounts I hear from sensible people, and consequently might well have received intelligence relating to you, my dear sir, that a certain person you know, whose name I will not mention here, for certain honourable reasons, is highly respected by right-thinking people, and is, moreover, of lively and agreeable disposition, and is equally successful in the service and in the society of persons of common sense, is true in word and in friendship, and does not insult behind their back those with whom he is M
on friendly terms to their face. "In any case, I remain "Your obedient servant, "N. Vahramyev."
"P.S. You had better dismiss your man: he is a drunkard and probably gives you a great deal of trouble; you had better engage Yevstafy, who used to be in service here, and is not out of a place. Your present servant is not only a drunkard, but, what's more, he's a thief, for only last week he sold a pound of sugar to Karolina Ivanovna at less than cost price, which, in my opinion, he could not have done otherwise thanM
 by robing you in a very sly way, little by little, at different times. I write this to you for your own good, although some people can do nothing but insult and deceive everybody, especially persons of honesty and good nature; what is more, they slander them behind their back and misrepresent them, simply from envy, and because they can't call themselves the same. "V."
After reading Vahramyev's letter our hero remained for a long time sitting motionless on his sofa. A new light seemed breaking through the obscuM
re and baffling fog which had surrounded him for the last two days. Our hero seemed to reach a partial understanding . . . He tried to get up from the sofa to take a turn about the room, to rouse himself, to collect his scattered ideas, to fix them upon a certain subject and then to set himself to rights a little, to think over his position thoroughly. But as soon as he tried to stand up he fell back again at once, weak and helpless. "Yes, of course, I had a presentiment of all that; how he writes though, and what M
is the real meaning of his words. Supposing I do understand the meaning; but what is it leading to? He should have said straight out: this and that is wanted, and I would have done it. Things have taken such a turn, things have come to such an unpleasant pass! Oh, if only tomorrow would make haste and come, and I could make haste and get to work! I know now what to do. I shall say this and that, I shall agree with his arguments, I won't sell my honour, but . . . maybe; but he, that person we know of, that disagreeaM
ble person, how does he come to be mixed up in it? And why has he turned up here? Oh, if tomorrow would make haste and come! They'll slander me before then, they are intriguing, they are working to spite me! The great thing is not to lose time, and now, for instance, to write a letter, and to say this and that and that I agree to this and that. And as soon as it is daylight tomorrow send it off, before he can do anything . . . and so checkmate them, get in before them, the darlings. . . . They will ruin me by theirM
 slanders, and that's the fact of the matter!" Mr. Golyadkin drew the paper to him, took up a pen and wrote the following missive in answer to the secretary's letter -
"Dear Sir Nestor Ignatyevitch!
"With amazement mingled with heartfelt distress I have perused your insulting letter to me, for I see clearly that you are referring to me when you speak of certain discreditable persons and false friends. I see with genuine sorrow how rapidly the calumny has spread and how deeply it has taken root, to the detrimeM
nt of my prosperity, my honour and my good name. And this is the more distressing and mortifying that even honest people of a genuinely noble way of thinking and, what is even more important, of straightforward and open dispositions, abandon the interests of honourable men and with all the qualities of their hearts attach themselves to the pernicious corruption, which in our difficult and immoral age has unhappily increased and multiplied so greatly and so disloyally. In conclusion, I will say that the debt of two M
roubles of which you remind me I regard as a sacred duty to return to you in its entirety.
"As for your hints concerning a certain person of the female sex, concerning the intentions, calculations and various designs of that person, I can only tell you, sir, that I have but a very dim and obscure understanding of those insinuations. Permit me, sir, to preserve my honourable way of thinking and my good name undefiled, in any case. I am ready to stoop to a written explanation as more secure, and I am, moreover, reM
ady to enter into conciliatory proposals on mutual terms, of course. To that end I beg you, my dear sir, to convey to that person my readiness for a personal arrangement and, what is more, to beg her to fix the time and place of the interview. It grieved me, sir, to read your hints of my having insulted you, having been treacherous to our original friendship and having spoken ill of you. I ascribe this misunderstanding to the abominable calumny, envy and ill-will of those whom I may justly stigmatize as my bitteresM
t foes. But I suppose they do not know that innocence is strong through its very innocence, that the shamelessness, the insolence and the revolting familiarity of some persons, sooner or later gains the stigma of universal contempt; and that such persons come to ruin through nothing but their own worthlessness and the corruption of their own hearts. In conclusion, I beg you, sir, to convey to those persons that their strange pretensions and their dishonourable and fantastic desire to squeeze others out of the positM
ion which those others occupy, by their very existence in this world, and to take their place, are deserving of contempt, amazement, compassion and, what is more, the madhouse; moreover, such efforts are severely prohibited by law, which in my opinion is perfectly just, for every one ought to be satisfied with his own position. Every one has his fixed position, and if this is a joke it is a joke in very bad taste. I will say more: it is utterly immoral, for, I make bold to assure you, sir, my own views which I haveM
 expounded above, in regard to keeping one's own place, are purely moral. "In any case I have the honour to remain, "Your humble servant, "Y. Golyadkin."
Altogether, we may say, the adventures of the previous day had thoroughly unnerved Mr. Golyadkin. Our hero passed a very bad night; that is, he did not get thoroughly off to sleep for five minutes: as though some practical joker had scattered bristles in his bed. He spent the whole night in a sort of half-sleeping state, tossing from side to sideM
, from right to left, moaning and groaning, dozing off for a moment, waking up again a minute later, and all was accompanied by a strange misery, vague memories, hideous visions - in fact, everything disagreeable that can be imagined. . . .
At one moment the figure of Andrey Filippovitch appeared before him in a strange, mysterious half-light. It was a frigid, wrathful figure, with a cold, harsh eye and with stiffly polite word of blame on its lips . . . and as soon as Mr. Golyadkin began going up to Andrey FiliM
ppovitch to defend himself in some way and to prove to him that he was not at all such as his enemies represented him, that he was like this and like that, that he even possessed innate virtues of his own, superior to the average - at once a person only too well known for his discreditable behaviour appeared on the scene, and by some most revolting means instantly frustrated poor Mr. Golyadkin's efforts, on the spot, almost before the latter's eyes, blackened his reputation, trampled his dignity in the mud, and theM
n immediately took possession of his place in the service and in society.
At another time Mr. Golyadkin's head felt sore from some sort of slight blow of late conferred and humbly accepted, received either in the course of daily life or somehow in the performance of his duty, against which blow it was difficult to protest . . . And while Mr. Golyadkin was racking his brains over the question of why it was difficult to protest even against such a blow, this idea of a blow gradually melted away into a different foM
rm - into the form of some familiar, trifling, or rather important piece of nastiness which he had seen, heard, or even himself committed - and frequently committed, indeed, and not on nasty ground, not from any nasty impulse, even, but just because it happened - sometimes, for instance, out of delicacy, another time owing to his absolute defencelessness - in fact, because . . . because, in fact, Mr. Golyadkin knew perfectly well because of what! At this point Mr. Golyadkin blushed in his sleep, and, smothering hisM
 blushes, muttered to himself that in this case he ought to be able to show the strength of his character, he ought to be able to show in this case the remarkable strength of his character, and then wound up by asking himself, "What, after all, is strength of character? Why understand it now?" . . .
But what irritated and enraged Mr. Golyadkin most of all was that invariably, at such a moment, a person well known for his undignified burlesque turned up uninvited, and, regardless of the fact that the matter was aM
pparently settled, he, too, would begin muttering, with an unseemly little smile "What's the use of strength of character! How could you and I, Yakov Petrovitch, have strength of character? . . ."
Then Mr. Golyadkin would dream that he was in the company of a number of persons distinguished for their wit and good breeding; that he, Mr. Golyadkin, too, was conspicuous for his wit and politeness, that everybody like him, which was very agreeable to Mr. Golyadkin, too, was conspicuous for his wit and politeness, thM
at everybody liked him, even some of his enemies who were present began to like him, which was very agreeable to Mr. Golyadkin; that every one gave him precedence, and that at last Mr. Golyadkin himself, with gratification, overheard the host, drawing one of the guests aside, speak in his, Mr. Golyadkin's praise . . . and all of a sudden, apropos of nothing, there appeared again a person, notorious for his treachery and brutal impulses, in the form of Mr. Golyadkin junior, and on the spot, at once, by his very appeM
arance on the scene, Mr. Golyadkin junior destroyed the whole triumph and glory of Mr. Golyadkin senior, eclipsed Mr. Golyadkin senior, trampled him in the mud, and, at last, proved clearly that Golyadkin senior - that is, the genuine one - was not the genuine one at all but the sham, and that he, Golyadkin junior, was the real one; that, in fact, Mr. Golyadkin senior was not at all what he appeared to be, but something very disgraceful, and that consequently he had no right to mix in the society of honourable and M
well-bred people. And all this was done so quickly that Mr. Golyadkin had not time to open his mouth before all of them were subjugated, body and soul, by the wicked, sham Mr. Golyadkin, and with profound contempt rejected him, the real and innocent Mr. Golyadkin. There was not one person left whose opinion the infamous Mr. Golyadkin would not have changed round. There was not left one person, even the most insignificant of the company, to whom the false and worthless Mr. Golyadkin would not make up in his blandestM
 manner, upon whom he would not fawn in his own way, before whom he would not burn sweet and agreeable incense, so that the flattered person simply sniffed and sneezed till the tears came, in token of the intensest pleasure.
And the worst of it was that all this was done in a flash: the swiftness of movement of the false and worthless Mr. Golyadkin was marvellous! he sincerely had time, for instance, to make up to one person and win his good graces - and before one could wink an eye he was at another. He stealthM
ily fawns on another, drops a smile of benevolence, twirls on his short, round, though rather wooden-looking leg, and already he's at a third, and is cringing upon a third, he's making up to him in a friendly way; before one has time to open one's mouth, before one has time to feel surprised he's at a fourth, at the same manoeuvres with him - it was horrible: sorcery and nothing else! And every one was pleased with him and everybody liked him, and every one was exalting him, and all were proclaiming in chorus that M
his politeness and sarcastic wit were infinitely superior to the politeness and sarcastic wit of the real Mr. Golyadkin and putting the real and innocent Mr. Golyadkin to shame thereby and rejecting the veritable Mr. Golyadkin, and shoving and pushing out the loyal Mr. Golyadkin, and showering blows on the man so well known for his love towards his fellow creatures! . . .
In misery, in terror and in fury, the cruelly treated Mr. Golyadkin ran out into the street and began trying to take a cab in order to drive sM
traight to his Excellency's, or, at any rate, to Andrey Filippovitch, but - horror! the cabman absolutely refused to take Mr. Golyadkin, saying, "We cannot drive two gentlemen exactly alike, sir; a good man tries to like honestly, your honour, and never has a double." Overcome with shame, the unimpeachable, honest Mr. Golyadkin looked round and did, in fact, assure himself with his own eyes that the cabman and Petrushka, who had joined them, were all quite right, for the depraved Mr. Golyadkin was actually on the sM
pot, beside him, close at hand, and with his characteristic nastiness was again, at this critical moment, certainly preparing to do something very unseemly, and quite out of keeping with that gentlemanliness of character which is usually acquired by good breeding - that gentlemanliness of which the loathsome Mr. Golyadkin the second was always boasting on every opportunity. Beside himself with shame and despair, the utterly ruined though perfectly just Mr. Golyadkin dashed headlong away, wherever fate might lead hiM
m; but with every step he took, with every thud of his foot on the granite of the pavement, there leapt up as though out of the earth a Mr. Golyadkin precisely the same, perfectly alike, and of a revolting depravity of heart.
And all these precisely similar Golyadkins set to running after one another as soon as they appeared, and stretched in a long chain like a file of geese, hobbling after the real Mr. Golyadkin, so there was nowhere to escape from these duplicates - so that Mr. Golyadkin, who was in every wayM
 deserving of compassion, was breathless with terror; so that at last a terrible multitude of duplicates had sprung into being; so that the whole town was obstructed at last by duplicate Golyadkins, and the police officer, seeing such a breach of decorum, was obliged to seize all these duplicates by the collar and to put them into the watch-house, which happened to be beside him . . . Numb and chill with horror, our hero woke up, and numb and chill with horror felt that his waking state was hardly more cheerful . .M
 . It was oppressive and harrowing . . . He was overcome by such anguish that it seemed as though some one were gnawing at his heart.
At last Mr. Golyadkin could endure it no longer. "This shall not be!" he cried, resolutely sitting up in bed, and after this exclamation he felt fully awake.
It seemed as though it were rather late in the day. It was unusually light in the room. The sunshine filtered through the frozen panes and flooded the room with light, which surprised Mr. Golyadkin not a little and, so farM
 as Mr. Golyadkin could remember, at least, there had scarcely ever been such exceptions in the course of the heavenly luminary before. Our hero had hardly time to wonder at this when he heard the clock buzzing behind the partition as thought it was just on the point of striking. "Now," thought Mr. Golyadkin, and he prepared to listen with painful suspense. . . .
But to complete Mr. Golyadkin's astonishment, clock whirred and only struck once.
"What does this mean?" cried out hero, finally leaping out of bed.M
 And, unable to believe his ears, he rushed behind the screen just as he was. It actually was one o'clock. Mr. Golyadkin glanced at Petrushka's bed; but the room did not even smell of Petrushka: his bed had long been made and left, his boots were nowhere to be seen either - an unmistakable sign that Petrushka was not in the house. Mr. Golyadkin rushed to the door: the door was locked. "But where is he, where is Petrushka?" he went on in a whisper, conscious of intense excitement and feeling a perceptible tremor runM
 all over him . . . Suddenly a thought floated into his mind . . . Mr. Golyadkin rushed to the table, looked all over it, felt all round - yes, it was true, his letter of the night before to Vahramyev was not there. Petrushka was nowhere behind the screen either, the clock had just struck one, and some new points were evident to him in Vahramyev's letter, points that were obscure at first sight though now they were fully explained. Petrushka had evidently been bribed at last!
"Yes, yes, that was so!"
 was how the chief plot was hatched!" cried Mr. Golyadkin, slapping himself on the forehead, opening his eyes wider and wider; "so in that filthy German woman's den the whole power of evil lies hidden now! So she was only making a strategic diversion in directing me to the Ismailovsky Bridge - she was putting me off the scent, confusing me (the worthless witch), and in that way laying her mines! Yes, that is so! If one only looks at the thing from that point of view, all of this is bound to be so, and the scoundrelM
's appearance on the scene is fully explained: it's all part and parcel of the same thing. They've kept him in reserve a long while, they had him in readiness for the evil day. This is how it has all turned out! This is what it has come to. But there, never mind. No time has been lost so far."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin recollected with horror that it was past one in the afternoon. "What if they have succeeded by now? . . ." He uttered a moan. . . . "But, no, they are lying, they've not had time -we shall see. M
He dressed after a fashion, seized paper and a pen, and scribbled the following missive -
"Dear Sir Yakov Petrovitch!
"Either you or I, but both together is out of the question! And so I must inform you that your strange, absurd, and at the same time impossible desire to appear to be my twin and to give yourself out as such serves no other purpose than to bring about your complete disgrace and discomfiture. And so I beg you, for the sake of your own advantage, to step aside and make way for really hM
onourable men of loyal aims. In the opposite case I am ready to determine upon extreme measures. I lay down my pen and await . . . However, I remain ready to oblige or to meet you with pistols. "Y. Golyadkin."
Our hero rubbed his hands energetically when he had finished the letter. Then, pulling on his greatcoat and putting on his hat, he unlocked his flat with a spare key and set off for the department. He reached the office but could not make up his mind to go in - it was by now too late. It was half-past two M
by Mr. Golyadkin's watch. All at once a circumstance of apparently little importance settled some doubts in Mr. Golyadkin's mind: a flushed and breathless figure suddenly made its appearance from behind the screen of the department building and with a stealthy movement like a rat he darted up the steps and into the entry. It was a copying clerk called Ostafyev, a man Mr. Golyadkin knew very well, who was rather useful and ready to do anything for a trifle. Knowing Ostafyev's weak spot and surmising that after his bM
rief, unavoidable absence he would probably be greedier than ever for tips, our hero made up his mind not to be sparing of them, and immediately darted up the steps, and then into the entry after him, called to him and, with a mysterious are, drew him aside into a convenient corner, behind a huge iron stove. And having led him there, our hero began questioning him.
"Well, my dear fellow, how are things going in there . . . you understand me? . . ."
"Yes, your honour, I wish you good health, your honour."
All right, my good man, all right; but I'll reward you, my good fellow. Well, you see, how are things?"
"What is your honour asking?" At this point Ostafyev held his hand as though by accident before his open mouth.
"You see, my dear fellow, this is how it is . . . but don't you imagine . . . Come, is Andrey Filippovitch here?. . ."
"And are the clerks here?"
"Yes, sir, they are here as usual."
"And his Excellency too?"
"And his Excellency too." Here the man held his hand befM
ore his mouth again, and looked rather curiously and strangely at Mr. Golyadkin, so at least our hero fancied.
"And there's nothing special there, my good man?"
"No, sir, certainly not, sir."
"So there's nothing concerning me, my friend. Is there nothing going on there - that is, nothing more than . . . eh? nothing more, you understand, my friend?"
"No, sir, I've heard nothing so far, sir." Again the man put his hand before his mouth and again looked rather strangely at Mr. Golyadkin. The fact was, Mr. M
Golyadkin was trying to read Ostafyev's countenance, trying to discover whether there was not something hidden in it. And, in fact, he did look as though he were hiding something: Ostafyev seemed to grow colder and more churlish, and did not enter into Mr. Golyadkin's interests with the same sympathy as at the beginning of the conversation. "He is to some extent justified," thought Mr. Golyadkin. "After all, what am I to him? Perhaps he has already been bribed by the other side, and that's why he has just been abseM
nt. but, here, I'll try him . . ." Mr. Golyadkin realized that the moment for kopecks had arrived.
"Here, my dear fellow . . ."
"I'm feelingly grateful for your honour's kindness."
"I'll give you more than that."
"I'll give you some more directly, and when the business is over I'll give you as much again. Do you understand?"
The clerk did not speak. He stood at attention and stared fixedly at Mr. Golyadkin.
"Come, tell me now: have you heard nothing about me? . . ."
ink, so far, I have not . . . so to say . . . nothing so far."
Ostafyev, like Mr. Golyadkin, spoke deliberately and preserved a mysterious air, moving his eyebrows a little, looking at the ground, trying to fall into the suitable tone, and, in fact, doing his very utmost to earn what had been promised him, for what he had received already he reckoned as already earned.
"And you know nothing?"
"So far, nothing, sir."
"Listen . . . you know . . . maybe you will know . . ."
"Later on, of course, maybe IM
"It's a poor look out," thought our hero. "Listen: here's something more, my dear fellow."
"I am truly grateful to your honour."
"Was Vahramyev here yesterday? . . ."
"And . . . somebody else? . . . Was he? . . . Try and remember, brother."
The man ransacked his memory for a moment, and could think of nothing appropriate.
"No, sir, there wasn't anybody else."
"H'm!" a silence followed.
"Listen, brother, here's some more; tell me all, every detail."
 Ostafyev had by now become as soft as silk; which was just what Mr. Golyadkin needed.
"Explain to me now, my good man, what footing is he on?"
"All right, sir, a good one, sir," answered the man, gazing open-eyed at Mr. Golyadkin.
"How do you mean, all right?"
"Well, it's just like that, sir." Here Ostafyev twitched his eyebrows significantly. But he was utterly nonplussed and didn't know what more to say.
"It's a poor look out," thought Mr. Golyadkin.
"And hasn't anything more happened . . . in M
there . . . about Vahramyev?"
"But everything is just as usual."
"There is, they say . . ."
Ostafyev put his hand in front of his mouth.
"Wasn't there a letter . . . from here . . . to me?"
"Mihyeev the attendant went to Vahramyev's lodging, to their German landlady, so I'll go and ask him if you like."
"Do me the favour, brother, for goodness' sake! . . . I only mean . . . you mustn't imagine anything, brother, I only mean . . . Yes, you question him, brotherM
, find out whether they are not getting up something concerning me. Find out how he is acting. That is what I want; that is what you must find out, my dear fellow, and then I'll reward you, my good man. . . ."
"I will, your honour, and Ivan Semyonovitch sat in your place today, sir."
"Ivan Semyonovitch? Oh! really, you don't say so."
"Andrey Filippovitch told him to sit there."
"Re-al-ly! How did that happen? You must find out, brother; for God's sake find out, brother; find it all out - and I'll rewardM
 you, my dear fellow; that's what I want to know . . . and don't you imagine anything, brother. . . ."
"Just so, sir, just so; I'll go at once. And aren't you going in today, sir?"
"No, my friend; I only looked round, I only looked round, you know. I only came to have a look round, my friend, and I'll reward you afterwards, my friend."
"Yes, sir." The man ran rapidly and eagerly up the stairs and Mr. Golyadkin was left alone.
"It's a poor look out!" he thought. "Eh, it's a bad business, a bad business! M
Ech! things are in a bad way with us now! What does it all mean? What did that drunkard's insinuations mean, for instance, and whose trickery was it? Ah! I know whose it was. And what a thing this is. No doubt they found out and made him sit there. . . . But, after all, did they sit him there? It was Andrey Filippovitch sat him there and with what object? Probably they found out. . . . That is Vahramyev's work - that is, not Vahramyev, he is as stupid as an ashen post, Vahramyev is, and they are all at work on his M
behalf, and they egged that scoundrel on to come here for the same purpose, and the German woman brought up her grievance, the one-eyed hussy.
I always suspected that this intrigue was not without an object and that in all this old-womanish gossip there must be something, and I said as much to Krestyan Ivanovitch, telling him they'd sworn to cut a man's throat - in a moral sense, of course - and they pounced upon Karolina Ivanovna. Yes, there are master hands at work in this, one can see! Yes, sir, there are masM
ter hands at work in this, not Vahramyev's. I've said already that Vahramyev is stupid, but . . . I know who it is behind it all, it's that rascal, that impostor! It's only that he relies upon, which is partly proved by his successes in the best society. And it would certainly be desirable to know on what footing he stands now. What is he now among them? Only, why have they taken Ivan Semyonovitch? What the devil do they want with Ivan Semyonovitch? Could not they have found any one else? Though it would come to thM
e same thing whoever it had been, and the only thing I know is that I have suspected Ivan Semyonovitch for a long time past. I noticed long ago what a nasty, horrid old man he was - they say he lends money and takes interest like any Jew. To be sure, the bear's the leading spirit in the whole affair. One can detect the bear in the whole affair. It began in this way. It began at the Ismailovsky Bridge; that's how it began . . ."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin frowned, as though he had taken a bit out of a lemon, proM
bably remembering something very unpleasant.
"But, there, it doesn't matter," he thought. "I keep harping on my own troubles. What will Ostafyev find out? Most likely he is staying on or has been delayed somehow. It is a good thing, in a sense, that I am intriguing like this, and am laying mines on my side too. I've only to give Ostafyev ten kopecks and he's . . . so to speak, on my side. Only the point is, is he really on my side? Perhaps they've got him on their side too . . . and they are carrying on an intriM
gue by means of him on their side too. He looks a ruffian, the rascal, a regular ruffian; he's hiding something, the rogue. 'No, nothing,' says he, 'and I am deeply grateful to your honour.' says he. You ruffian, you!"
He heard a noise . . . Mr. Golyadkin shrank up and skipped behind the stove. Some one came down stairs and went out into the street. "Who could that be going away now?" our hero thought to himself. A minute later footsteps were audible again . . . At this point Mr. Golyadkin could not resist pokinM
g the very tip of his nose out beyond his corner - he poked it out and instantly withdrew it again, as though some one had pricked it with a pin. This time some one he knew well was coming - that is the scoundrel, the intriguer and the reprobate - he was approaching with his usual mean, tripping little step, prancing and shuffling with his feet as though he were going to kick some one.
"The rascal," said our hero to himself.
Mr. Golyadkin could not, however, help observing that the rascal had under his arm a M
huge green portfolio belonging to his Excellency.
"He's on a special commission again," thought Mr. Golyadkin, flushing crimson and shrinking into himself more than ever from vexation.
As soon as Mr. Golyadkin junior had slipped past Mr. Golyadkin senior without observing him in the least, footsteps were heard for the third time, and this time Mr. Golyadkin guessed that these were Ostafyev's. It was, in fact, the sleek figure of a copying clerk, Pisarenko by name. This surprised Mr. Golyadkin. Why had he mixeM
d up other people in their secret? our hero wondered. What barbarians! nothing is sacred to them! "Well, my friend?" he brought out, addressing Pisarenko: "who sent you, my friend? . . ."
"I've come about your business. There's no news so far from any one. But should there be any we'll let you know."
"It was quite impossible for him to come, your honour. His Excellency has walked through the room twice, and I've no time to stay."
"Thank you, my good man, thank you . . . only, tell me . .M
"Upon my word, sir, I can't stay. . . . They are asking for us every minute . . . but if your honour will stay here, we'll let you know if anything happens concerning your little affair."
"No, my friend, you just tell me . . ."
"Excuse me, I've no time to stay, sir," said Pisarenko, tearing himself away from Mr. Golyadkin, who had clutched him by the lapel of his coat. "I really can't. If your honour will stay here we'll let you know."
"In a minute, my good man, in a minute! In a minute, my good felM
low! I tell you what, here's a letter; and I'll reward you, my good mad."
"Try and give it to Mr. Golyadkin my dear fellow."
"Yes, my man, to Mr. Golyadkin."
"Very good, sir; as soon as I get off I'll take it, and you stay here, meanwhile; no one will see you here . . . "
"No, my good man, don't imagine . . . I'm not standing here to avoid being seen. But I'm not going to stay here now, my friend. . . I'll be close here in the side of the street. There's a coffee-house neaM
r here; so I'll wait there, and if anything happens, you let me know about anything, you understand?"
"Very good, sir. Only let me go; I understand."
"And I'll reward you," Mr. Golyadkin called after Pisarenko, when he had at last released him. . . ."
"The rogue seemed to be getting rather rude," our hero reflected as he stealthily emerged from behind the stove. "There's some other dodge here. That's clear . . . At first it was one thing and another . . . he really was in a hurry, though; perhaps there's aM
 great deal to do in the office. And his Excellency had been through the room twice . . . How did that happen? . . . Ough! never mind! it may mean nothing, perhaps; but now we shall see. . . ."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin was about to open the door, intending to go out into the street, when suddenly, at that very instant, his Excellency's carriage was opened from within and a gentleman jumped out. This gentleman was no other than Mr. Golyadkin junior, who had only gone out ten minutes before. Mr. Golyadkin senioM
r remembered that the Director's flat was only a couple of paces away.
"He has been out on a special commission," our hero thought to himself.
Meanwhile, Mr. Golyadkin junior took out of the carriage a thick green portfolio and other papers. Finally, giving some orders to the coachman, he opened the door, almost ran up against Mr. Golyadkin senior, purposely avoided noticing him, acting in this way expressly to annoy him, and mounted the office staircase at a rapid canter.
"It's a bad look out," thought MrM
. Golyadkin. "This is what it has come to now! Oh, good Lord! look at him."
For half a minute our hero remained motionless. At last he made up his mind. Without pausing to think, though he was aware of a violent palpitation of the heart and a tremor in all his limbs, he ran up the stair after his enemy.
"Here goes; what does it matter to me? I have nothing to do with the case," he thought, taking off his hat, his greatcoat and his goloshes in the entry.
When Mr. Golyadkin walked into his office, it was alrM
eady getting dusk. Neither Andrey Filippovitch nor Anton Antonovitch were in the room. Both of them were in the Director's room, handing in reports. The Director, so it was rumoured, was in haste to report to a still higher Excellency. In consequence of this, and also because twilight was coming on, and the office hours were almost over, several of the clerks, especially the younger ones, were, at the moment when our hero entered, enjoying a period of inactivity; gathered together in groups, they were talking, arguM
ing, and laughing, and some of the most youthful - that is, belonging to the lowest grades in the service, had got up a game of pitch-farthing in a corner, by a window.
Knowing what was proper, and feeling at the moment a special need to conciliate and get on with them, Mr. Golyadkin immediately approached those with him he used to get on best, in order to wish them good day, and so on. But his colleagues answered his greetings rather strangely. He was unpleasantly impressed by a certain coldness, even curtness,M
 one might almost say severity in their manner. No one shook hands with him. Some simply said, "Good day" and walked away; others barely nodded; one simply turned away and pretended not to notice him; at last some of them - and what mortified Mr. Golyadkin most of all, some of the youngsters of the lowest grades, mere lads who, as Mr. Golyadkin justly observed about them, were capable of nothing but hanging about and playing pitch-farthing at every opportunity - little by little collected round Mr. Golyadkin, formeM
d a group round him and almost barred his way. They all looked at him with a sort of insulting curiosity.
It was a bad sign. Mr. Golyadkin felt this, and very judiciously decided not to notice it. Suddenly a quite unexpected event completely finished him off, as they say, and utterly crushed him.
At the moment most trying to Mr. Golyadkin senior, suddenly, as though by design, there appeared in the group of fellow clerks surrounding him the figure of Mr. Golyadkin junior, gay as ever, smiling a little smile aM
s ever, nimble, too, as ever; in short, mischievous, skipping and tripping, chuckling and fawning, with sprightly tongue and sprightly toe, as always, precisely as he had been the day before at a very unpleasant moment for Mr. Golyadkin senior, for instance.
Grinning, tripping and turning with a smile that seemed to say "good evening," to every one, he squeezed his way into the group of clerks, shaking hands with one, slapping another on the shoulder, putting his arm round another, explaining to a fourth how he M
had come to be employed by his Excellency, where he had been, what he had done, what he had brought with him; to the fifth, probably his most intimate friend, he gave a resounding kiss - in fact, everything happened as it had in Mr. Golyadkin's dream. When he had skipped about to his heart's content, polished them all off in his usual way, disposed them all in his favour, whether he needed them or not, when he had lavished his blandishments to the delectation of all the clerks, Mr. Golyadkin junior suddenly, and moM
st likely by mistake, for he had not yet had time to notice his senior, held out his hand to Mr. Golyadkin senior also. Probably also by mistake - though he had had time to observe the dishonourable Mr. Golyadkin junior thoroughly, our hero at once eagerly seized the hand so unexpectedly held out to him and pressed it in the warmest and friendliest way, pressed it with a strange, quite unexpected, inner feeling, with a tearful emotion. Whether our hero was misled by the first movement of his worthless foe, or was tM
aken unawares, or, without recognizing it, felt at the bottom of his heart how defenceless he was - it is difficult to say.
The fact remains that Mr. Golyadkin senior, apparently knowing what he was doing, of his own free will, before witnesses, solemnly shook hands with him whom he called his mortal foe. But what was the amazement, the stupefaction and fury, what was the horror and the shame of Mr. Golyadkin senior, when his enemy and mortal foe, the dishonourable Mr. Golyadkin junior, noticing the mistake of tM
hat persecuted, innocent, perfidiously deceived man, without a trace of shame, of feeling, of compassion or of conscience, pulled his hand away with insufferable rudeness and insolence. What was worse, he shook the hand as though it had been polluted with something horrid; what is more, he spat aside with disgust, accompanying this with a most insulting gesture; worse still, he drew out his handkerchief and, in the most unseemly way, wiped all the fingers that had rested for one moment in the hand of Mr. Golyadkin M
senior. While he did this Mr. Golyadkin junior looked about him in his characteristic horrid way, took care that every one should see what he was doing, glanced into people's eyes and evidently tried to insinuate to every one everything that was most unpleasant in regard to Mr. Golyadkin senior. Mr. Golyadkin junior's revolting behaviour seemed to arouse general indignation among the clerks that surrounded them; even the frivolous youngsters showed their displeasure. A murmur of protest rose on all sides. Mr. GolyaM
dkin could not but discern the general feeling; but suddenly - an appropriate witticism that bubbled from the lips of Mr. Golyadkin junior shattered, annihilated our hero's last hopes, and inclined the balance again in favour of his deadly and undeserving for.
"He's our Russian Faublas, gentlemen; allow me to introduce the youthful Faublas," piped Mr. Golyadkin junior, with his characteristic insolence, pirouetting and threading his way among the clerks, and directing their attention to the petrified though genuM
ine Mr. Golyadkin. "Let us kiss each other, darling," he went on with insufferable familiarity, addressing the man he had so treacherously insulted. Mr. Golyadkin junior's unworthy jest seemed to touch a responsive chord, for it contained an artful allusion to an incident with which all were apparently familiar. Our hero was painfully conscious of the hand of his enemies. But he had made up his mind by now. With glowing eyes, with pale face, with a fixed smile he tore himself somehow out of the crowd and with uneveM
n, hurried steps made straight for his Excellency's private room. In the room next to the last he was met by Andrey Filippovitch, who had only just come out from seeing his Excellency, and although there were present in this room at the moment a good number of persons of whom Mr. Golyadkin knew nothing, yet out hero did not care to take such a fact into consideration. Boldly, resolutely, directly, almost wondering at himself and inwardly admiring his own courage, without loss of time he accosted Andrey FilippovitchM
, who was a good deal surprised by the unexpected attack.
"Ah! . . . What is it . . . what do you want?" asked the head of the division, not hearing Mr. Golyadkin's hesitation words.
"Andrey Filippovitch, may . . . might I, Andrey Filippovitch, may I have a conversation with his Excellency at once and in private?" our hero said resolutely and distinctly, fixing the most determined glance on Andrey Filippovitch.
"What next! of course not." Andrey Filippovitch scanned Mr. Golyadkin from head to foot.
ay all this, Andrey Filippovitch, because I am surprised that no-one here unmasks the imposter and scoundrel."
"Scoundrel, Andrey Filippovitch!"
"Of whom are you pleased to speak in those terms?"
"Of a certain person, Andrey Filippovitch; I'm alluding, Andrey Filippovitch, to a certain person; I have the right . . . I imagine, Andrey Filippovitch, that the authorities would surely encourage such action," added Mr. Golyadkin, evidently hardly knowing what he was saying. "Andrey Filippovitch .M
 . . but no doubt you see yourself, Andrey Filippovitch, that this honourable action is a mark of my loyalty in every way - of my looking upon my superior as a father, Andrey Filippovitch; I as much as to say look upon my benevolent superior as a father and blindly trust my fate to him. It's as much as to say . . . you see . . . " At this point Mr. Golyadkin's voice trembled and two tears ran down his eyelashes.
As Andrey Filippovitch listened to Mr. Golyadkin he was so astonished that he could not help steppingM
 back a couple of paces. Then he looked about him uneasily . . . It is difficult to say how the matter would have ended. But suddenly the door of his Excellency's room was opened, and he himself came out, accompanied by several officials. All the persons in his room followed in a string. His Excellency called to Andrey Filippovitch and walked beside him, beginning to discuss some business details. When all had set off and gone out of the room, Mr. Golyadkin woke up. Growing calmer, he took refuge under the wing of M
Anton Antonovitch, who came last in the procession and who, Mr. Golyadkin fancied, looked stern and anxious. "I've been talking nonsense, I've been making a mess of it again, but there, never mind," he thought.
"I hope, at least, that you, Anton Antonovitch will consent to listen to me and to enter into my position," he said quietly, in a voice that still trembled a little. "Rejected by all, I appeal to you. I am still at a loss to understand what Andrey Filippovitch's words mean, Anton Antonovitch. Explain themM
 to me if you can . . ."
"Everything will be explained in due time," Anton Antonovitch replied sternly and emphatically, and as Mr. Golyadkin fancied with an air that give him plainly to understand that Anton Antonovitch did not wish to continue the conversation. "You will soon know all about it. You will be officially informed about everything today."
"What do you mean by officially informed, Anton Antonovitch? Why officially?" our hero asked timidly.
"It is not for you and me to discuss what our superiorM
s decide upon, Yakov Petrovitch."
"Why our superiors, Anton Antonovitch?" said our hero, still more intimidate; "why our superiors? I don't see what reason there is to trouble our superiors in the matter, Anton Antonovitch . . . Perhaps you mean to say something about yesterday's doings, Anton Antonovitch?"
"Oh no, nothing to do with yesterday; there's something else amiss with you."
"What is there amiss, Anton Antonovitch? I believe, Anton Antonovitch, that I have done nothing amiss."
aning to be sly with some one," Anton Antonovitch cut in sharply, completely flabbergasting Mr. Golyadkin.
Mr. Golyadkin started, and turned as white as a pocket-handkerchief.
"Of course, Anton Antonovitch," he said, in a voice hardly audible, "if one listens to the voice of calumny and hears one's enemies' tales, without heeding what the other side has to say in its defence, then, of course . . . then, of course, Anton Antonovitch, one must suffer innocently and for nothing."
"To be sure; but your unseemlM
y conduct, in injuring the reputation of a virtuous young lady belonging to that benevolent, highly distinguished and well-known family who had befriended you . . ."
"What conduct do you mean, Anton Antonovitch?"
"What I say. Do you know anything about your praiseworthy conduct in regard to that other young lady who, though poor, is of honourable foreign extraction?"
"Allow me, Anton Antonovitch . . . if you would kindly listen to me, Anton Antonovitch . . ."
"And your treacherous behaviour and slander M
of another person, your charging another person with your own sins. Ah, what do you call that?"
"I did not send him away, Anton Antonovitch," said our hero, with a tremor; "and I've never instructed Petrushka, my man, to do anything of the sort . . . He has eaten my bread, Anton Antonovitch, he has taken advantage of my hospitality," our hero added expressively and with deep emotion, so much so that his chin twitched a little and tears were ready to start again.
"That is only your talk, that he has eaten yourM
 bread," answered Anton Antonovitch, somewhat offended, and there was a perfidious note in his voice which sent a pang to Mr. Golyadkin's heart.
"Allow me most humbly to ask you again, Anton Antonovitch, is his Excellency aware of all this business?"
"Upon my word, you must let me go now, though. I've not time for you now. . . . You'll know everything you need to know today."
"Allow me, for God's sake, one minute, Anton Antonovitch."
"Tell me afterwards. . ."
"No, Anton Antonovitch; I . . . you see, M
Anton Antonovitch . . . only listen . . . I am not one for freethinking, Anton Antonovitch; I shun freethinking; I am quite ready for my part . . . and, indeed, I've given up that idea. . . ."
"Very good, very good. I've heard that already."
"No, you have not heard it, Anton Antonovitch. It is something else, Anton Antonovitch: it's a good thing, really, a good thing and pleasant to hear . . . As I've explained to you, Anton Antonovitch, I admit that idea, that divine Providence has created two men exactly alM
ike, and that a benevolent government, seeing the hand of Providence, provided a berth for two twins. That is a good thing, Anton Antonovitch, and that I am very far from freethinking. I look upon my benevolent government as a father; I say 'yes,' by all means; you are benevolent authorities, and you, of course . . . A young man must be in the service . . . Stand up for me, Anton Antonovitch, take my part, Anton Antonovitch . . . I am all right . . . Anton Antonovitch, for God's sake, one little word more. . . . AnM
ton Antonovitch. . . ."
But by now Anton Antonovitch was far away from Mr. Golyadkin . . . Our hero was so bewildered and overcome by all that had happened and all that he had heard that he did not know where he was standing, what he had heard, what he had done, what was being done to him, and what was going to be done to him.
With imploring eyes he sought for Anton Antonovitch in the crowd of clerks, that he might justify himself further in his eyes and say something to him extremely high toned and very agreM
eable, and creditable to himself. . . . By degrees, however, a new light began to break upon our hero's bewildered mind, a new and awful light that revealed at once a whole perspective of hitherto unknown and utterly unsuspected circumstances . . . At that moment somebody gave our bewildered hero a poke in the ribs. He looked around. Pisarenko was standing before him.
"A letter, your honour."
"Ah, you've been taken out already, my good man?"
"No, it was brought at ten o'clock this morning. Sergey Mihyeev, M
the attendant, brought it form Mr. Vahramyev's lodging."
"Very good, very good, and I'll reward you now, my dear fellow."
Saying this, Mr. Golyadkin thrust the letter in his side pocket of his uniform and buttoned up every button of it; then he looked round him, and to his surprise, found that he was by now in the hall of the department in a group of clerks crowding at the outer door, for office hours were over. Mr. Golyadkin had not only failed till that moment to observe this circumstance, but had no notionM
 how he suddenly came to be wearing his greatcoat and goloshes and to be holding his hat in his hand.
All the clerks were motionless, in reverential expectation. The fact was that his Excellency was standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for his carriage, which was for some reason late in arriving, and was carrying on a very interesting conversation with Andrey Filippovitch and two councillors. At a little distance from Andrey Filippovitch stood Anton Antonovitch and several other clerks, who were all smilM
es, seeing that his Excellency was graciously making a joke. The clerks who were crowded at the top of the stair were smiling too, in expectation of his Excellency's laughing again.
The only one who was not smiling was Fedosyevitch, the corpulent hall-porter, who stood stiffly at attention, holding the handle of the door, waiting impatiently for the daily gratification that fell to his share - that is, the task of flinging one half of the door wide open with a swing of his arm, and then, with a low bow, reverentM
ially making way for his Excellency to pass. But the one who seemed to be more delighted than any and to feel the most satisfaction of all was the worthless and ungentlemanly enemy of Mr. Golyadkin. At that instant he positively forgot all the clerks, and even gave up tripping and pirouetting in his usual odious way; he even forgot to make up to anybody. He was all eyes and ears, he even doubled himself up strangely, no doubt in the strained effort to hear, and never took his eyes off his Excellency, and only from M
time to time his arms, legs and head twitched with faintly perceptible tremors that betrayed the secret emotions of his soul.
"Ah, isn't he in a state!" thought our hero; "he looks like a favourite, the rascal! I should like to know how it is that he deceives society of every class. He has neither brains nor character, neither education nor feeling; he's a lucky rogue! Mercy on us! How can a man, when you think of it, come and make friends with every one so quickly! And he'll get on, I swear the fellow will get M
on, the rogue will make his way - he's a lucky rascal! I should like to know, too, what he keeps whispering to every one - what plots he is hatching with all these people, and what secrets they are talking about? Lord, have mercy on us! If only I could . . . get on with them a little too . . . say this and that and the other. Hadn't I better ask him . . . tell him I won't do it again; say 'I'm in fault, and a young man must serve nowadays, your Excellency'? I am not going to protest in any way, either; I shall bearM
 it all with meekness and patience, so there! Is that the way to behave? . . . Though you'll never see through him, though, the rascal; you can't reach him with anything you say; you can't hammer reason into his head . . . We'll make an effort, though. I may happen to hit on a good moment, so I'll make an effort. . . ."
Feeling in his uneasiness, his misery and his bewilderment that he couldn't leave things like this, that the critical moment had come, that he must explain himself to some one, our hero began to M
move a little towards the place where his worthless and undeserving enemy stood: but at that very moment his Excellency's long-expected carriage rolled up into the entrance, Fedosyevitch flung open the door and, bending double, let his Excellency pass out. All the waiting clerks streamed out towards the door, and for a moment separated Mr. Golyadkin senior from Mr. Golyadkin junior.
"You shan't get away!" said our hero, forcing his way through the crowd while he kept his eyes fixed upon the man he wanted. At lasM
t the crowd dispersed. Our hero felt he was free and flew in pursuit of his enemy.
Mr. Golyadkin's breath failed him; he flew as though on wings after his rapidly retreating enemy. He was conscious of immense energy. Yet in spite of this terrible energy he might confidently have said that at that moment a humble gnat - had a gnat been able to exist in Petersburg at that time of the year - could very easily have knocked him down. He felt, too, that he was utterly weak again, that he was carried alM
ong by a peculiar outside force, that it was not he himself who was funning, but, on the contrary, that his legs were giving way under him, and refused to obey him. This all might turn out for the best, however.
"Whether it is for the best or not for the best," thought Mr. Golyadkin, almost breathless from running so quickly, "but that the game is lost there cannot be the slightest doubt now; that I am utterly done for is certain, definite, signed and ratified."
In spite of all this our hero felt as though heM
 had risen from the dead, as though he had withstood a battalion, as though he had won a victory when he succeeded in clutching the overcoat of his enemy, who had already raised one foot to get into the cab he had engaged.
"My dear sir! My dear sir!" he shouted to the infamous Mr. Golyadkin junior, holding him by the button. "My dear sir, I hope that you . . ."
"No, please do not hope for anything," Mr. Golyadkin's heartless enemy answered evasively, standing with one foot on the step of the cab and vainly waM
ving the other leg in the air, in his efforts to get in, trying to preserve his equilibrium, and at the same time trying with all his might to wrench his coat away from Mr. Golyadkin senior, while the latter held on to it with all the strength that had been vouchsafed to him by nature.
"Yakov Petrovitch, only ten minutes . . ."
"Excuse me, I've no time . . ."
"You must admit, Yakov Petrovitch . . . please, Yakov Petrovitch . . . For God's sake, Yakov Petrovitch . . . let us have it out - in a straightforwaM
rd way . . . one little second, Yakov Petrovitch . . .
"My dear fellow, I can't stay," answered Mr. Golyadkin's dishonourable enemy, with uncivil familiarity, disguised as good-natured heartiness; "another time, believe me, with my whole soul and all my heart; but now I really can't . . ."
"Scoundrel!" thought our hero. "Yakov Petrovitch," he cried miserably. "I have never been your enemy. Spiteful people have described me unjustly . . . I am ready, on my side . . . Yakov Petrovitch, shall we go in here togetM
her, at once, Yakov Petrovitch? And with all my heart, as you have so justly expressed it just now, and in straightforward, honourable language, as you have expressed it just now - here into this coffee-house; there the facts will explain themselves: they will really, Yakov Petrovitch. Then everything will certainly explain itself . . ."
"Into the coffee-house? Very good. I am not against it. Let us go into the coffee-house on one condition only, my dear, on one condition - that these things shall be cleared up.M
 We will have it out, darling," said Mr. Golyadkin junior, getting out of the cab and shamelessly slapping our hero on the shoulder; "You friend of my heart, for your sake, Yakov Petrovitch, I am ready to go by the back street (as you were pleased to observe so aptly on one occasion, Yakov Petrovitch). Why, what a rogue he is! Upon my word, he does just what he likes with one!" Mr. Golyadkin's false friend went on, fawning upon him and cajoling him with a little smile.
The coffee-house which the two Mr. GolyadkiM
ns entered stood some distance away from the main street and was at the moment quite empty. A rather stout German woman made her appearance behind the counter. Mr. Golyadkin and his unworthy enemy went into the second room, where a puffy-looking boy with a closely shaven head was busy with a bundle of chips at the stove, trying to revive the smouldering fire. At Mr. Golyadkin junior's request chocolate was served.
"And a sweet little lady-tart," said Mr. Golyadkin junior, with a sly wink at Mr. Golyadkin senior.M
Our hero blushed and was silent.
"Oh, yes, I forgot, I beg your pardon. I know your taste. We are sweet on charming little Germans, sir; you and I are sweet on charming and agreeable little Germans, aren't we, you upright soul? We take their lodgings, we seduce their morals, they win our hearts with their beersoup and their milksoup, and we give them notes of different sorts, that's what we do, you Faublas, you deceiver!"
All this Mr. Golyadkin junior said, making an unworthy though villainously artful alM
lusion to a certain personage of the female sex, while he fawned upon our hero, smiled at him with an amiable air, with a deceitful show of being delighted with him and pleased to have met him. Seeing that Mr. Golyadkin senior was by no means so stupid and deficient in breeding and the manners of good society as to believe in him, the infamous man resolved to change his tactics and to make a more upon attack upon him. After uttering his disgusting speech, the false Mr. Golyadkin ended by slapping the real and substM
antial Mr. Golyadkin on the shoulder, with a revolting effrontery and familiarity. Not content with that, he began playing pranks utterly unfit for well-bred society; he took it into his head to repeat his old, nauseous trick - that is, regardless of the resistance and faint cries of the indignant Mr. Golyadkin senior, he pinched the latter on the cheek. At the spectacle of such depravity our hero boiled within, but was silent . . . only for the time, however.
"That is the talk of my enemies," he answered at lasM
t, in a trembling voice, prudently restraining himself. At the same time our hero looked round uneasily towards the door. The fact was that Mr. Golyadkin junior seemed in excellent spirits, and ready for all sorts of little jokes, unseemly in a public place, and, speaking generally, not permissible by the laws of good manners, especially in well-bred society.
"Oh, well, in that case, as you please," Mr. Golyadkin junior gravely responded to our hero's thought, setting down upon the table the empty cup which he hM
ad gulped down with unseemly greed. "Well, there's no need for me to stay long with you, however. . . . Well, how are you getting on now, Yakov Petrovitch?"
"There's only one thing I can tell you, Yakov Petrovitch," our hero answered, with sangfroid and dignity; "I've never been your enemy."
"H'm . . . Oh, what about Petrushka? Petrushka is his name, I fancy? Yes, it is Petrushka! Well, how is he? Well? The same as ever?"
"He's the same as ever, too, Yakov Petrovitch," answered Mr. Golyadkin senior, somewhM
at amazed. "I don't know, Yakov Petrovitch . . . from my standpoint . . . from a candid, honourable standpoint, Yakov Petrovitch, you must admit, Yakov Petrovitch. . . ."
"Yes, but you know yourself, Yakov Petrovitch," Mr. Golyadkin junior answered in a soft and expressive voice, so posing falsely as a sorrowful man overcome with remorse and deserving compassion. "You know yourself as we live in difficult time . . . I appeal to you, Yakov Petrovitch; you are an intelligent man and your reflections are just," Mr.M
 Golyadkin junior said in conclusion, flattering Mr. Golyadkin senior in an abject way. "Life is not a game, you know yourself, Yakov Petrovitch," Mr. Golyadkin junior added, with vast significance, assuming the character of a clever and learned man, who is capable of passing judgements on lofty subjects.
"For my part, Yakov Petrovitch," our hero answered warmly, "for my part, scorning to be roundabout and speaking boldly and openly, using straightforward, honourable language and putting the whole matter on an hM
onourable basis, I tell you I can openly and honourably assert, Yakov Petrovitch, that I am absolutely pure, and that, you know it yourself, Yakov Petrovitch, the error is mutual - it may all be the world's judgment, the opinion of the slavish crowd. . . . I speak openly, Yakov Petrovitch, everything is possible. I will say, too, Yakov Petrovitch, if you judge it in this way, if you look at the matter from a lofty, noble point of view, then I will boldly say, without false shame I will say, Yakov Petrovitch, it wilM
l positively be a pleasure to me to discover that I have been in error, it will positively be a pleasure to me to recognize it. You know yourself you are an intelligent man and, what is more, you are a gentleman. Without shame, without false shame, I am ready to recognize it," he wound up with dignity and nobility.
"It is the decree of destiny, Yakov Petrovitch . . . but let us drop all this," said Mr. Golyadkin junior. "Let us rather use the brief moment of our meeting for a more pleasant and profitable conversM
ation, as is only suitable between two colleagues in the service . . . Really, I have not succeeded in saying two words to you all this time. . . . I am not to blame for that, Yakov Petrovitch. . . ."
"Nor I," answered our hero warmly, "nor I, either! My heart tells me, Yakov Petrovitch, that I'm not to blame in all this matter. Let us blame fate for all this, Yakov Petrovitch," added Mr. Golyadkin senior, in a quick, conciliatory tone of voice. His voice began little by little to soften and to quaver.
 How are you in health?" said the sinner in a sweet voice.
"I have a little cough," answered our hero, even more sweetly.
"Take care of yourself. There is so much illness going about, you may easily get quinsy; for my part I confess I've begun to wrap myself up in flannel."
"One may, indeed, Yakov Petrovitch, very easily get quinsy," our hero pronounced after a brief silence; "Yakov Petrovitch, I see that I have made a mistake, I remember with softened feelings those happy moments which we were so fortunatM
e as to spend together, under my poor, though I venture to say, hospitable roof . . ."
"In your letter, however, you wrote something very different," said Mr. Golyadkin junior reproachfully, speaking on this occasion - though only on this occasion - quite justly.
"Yakov Petrovitch, I was in error. . . . I see clearly now that I was in error in my unhappy letter too. Yakov Petrovitch, I am ashamed to look at you, Yakov Petrovitch, you wouldn't believe . . . Give me that letter that I may tear it to pieces befoM
re your eyes, Yakov Petrovitch, and if that is utterly impossible I entreat you to read it the other way before - precisely the other way before - that is, expressly with a friendly intention, giving the opposite sense to the whole letter. I was in error. Forgive me, Yakov Petrovitch, I was quite . . . I was grievously in error, Yakov Petrovitch."
"You say so?" Mr. Golyadkin's perfidious friend inquired, rather casually and indifferently.
"I say that I was quite in error, Yakov Petrovitch, and that for my parM
t, quite without false shame, I am . . ."
"Ah, well, that's all right! That's a nice thing your being in error," answered Mr. Golyadkin junior.
"I even had an idea, Yakov Petrovitch," our candid hero answered in a gentlemanly way, completely failing to observe the horrible perfidy of his deceitful enemy; "I even had an idea that here were two people created exactly alike. . . ."
"Ah, is that your idea?"
At this point the notoriously worthless Mr. Golyadkin took up his hat. Still failing to observe his tM
reachery, Mr. Golyadkin senior, too, got up and with a noble, simple-hearted smile to his false friend, tried in his innocence to be friendly to him , to encourage him, and in that way to form a new friendship with him.
"Good-bye, your Excellency," Mr. Golyadkin junior called out suddenly. Our hero started, noticing in his enemy's face something positively Bacchanalian, and, solely to get rid of him, put two fingers into the unprincipled man's outstretched hand; but then . . . then his enemy's shameless ness pasM
sed all bounds. Seizing the two fingers of Mr. Golyadkin's hand and at first pressing them, the worthless fellow on the spot, before Mr. Golyadkin's eyes, had the effrontery to repeat the shameful joke of the morning. The limit of human patience was exhausted.
He had just hidden in his pocket the handkerchief with which he had wiped his fingers when Mr. Golyadkin senior recovered from the shock and dashed after him into the next room, into which his irreconcilable foe had in his usual hasty way hastened to decamM
p. As though perfectly innocent, he was standing at the counter eating pies, and with perfect composure, like a virtuous man, was making polite remarks to the German woman behind the counter.
"I can't go into it before ladies," thought our hero, and he, too, went up to the counter, so agitated that he hardly knew what he was doing.
"The tart is certainly not bad! What do you think?" Mr. Golyadkin junior began upon his unseemly sallies again, reckoning, no doubt, upon Mr. Golyadkin's infinite patience. The stoM
ut German, for her part, looked at both her visitors with pewtery, vacant-looking eyes, smiling affably and evidently not understanding Russian. Our hero flushed red as fire at the words of the unabashed Mr. Golyadkin junior, and, unable to control himself, rushed at him with the evident intention of tearing him to pieces and finishing him off completely, but Mr. Golyadkin junior, in his usual mean way, was already far off; he took flight, he was already on the steps.
It need hardly be said that, after the firstM
 moment of stupefaction with which Mr. Golyadkin senior was naturally overcome, he recovered himself and went at full speed after his insulting enemy, who had already got into a cab, whose driver was obviously in collusion with him. But at that very instant the stout German, seeing both her customers make off, shrieked and rang her bell with all her might. Our hero was on the point of flight, but he turned back, and, without asking for change, flung her money for himself and for the shameless man who had left withoM
ut paying, and although thus delayed he succeeded in catching up his enemy. Hanging on to the side of the cab with all the force bestowed on him by nature, our hero was carried for some time along the street, clambering upon the vehicle, while Mr. Golyadkin junior did his utmost to dislodge him. Meanwhile the cabman, with whip, with reins, with kicks and with shouts urged on his exhausted nag, who quite unexpectedly dropped into a gallop, biting at the bit, and kicking with his hind legs in a horrid way. At last ouM
r enemy and with his back to the driver, his knees touching the knees and his right hand clutching the very shabby fur collar of his depraved and exasperated foe.
The enemies were borne along for some time in silence. Our hero could scarcely breathe. It was a bad road and he was jolted at every step and in peril of breaking his neck. Moreover, his exasperated foe still refused to acknowledge himself vanquished and was trying to shove him off into the mud. To complete the unpleasantness of his position the weatheM
r was detestable. The snow was falling in heavy flakes and doing its utmost to creep under the unfastened overcoat of the genuine Mr. Golyadkin. It was foggy and nothing could be seen. It was difficult to tell through what street and in what direction they were being taken . . . It seemed to Mr. Golyadkin that what was happening to him was somehow familiar. One instant he tried to remember whether he had had a presentiment of it the day before, in a dream, for instance. . . .
At last his wretchedness reached theM
 utmost pitch of agony. Leaning upon his merciless opponent, he was beginning to cry out. But his cries died away upon his lips. . . . There was a moment when Mr. Golyadkin forgot everything, and made up his mind that all this was of no consequence and that it was all nothing, that it was happening in some inexplicable manner, and that, therefore, to protest was effort thrown away. . . . But suddenly and almost at the same instant that our hero was drawing this conclusion, an unexpected jolt have quite a new turn tM
Mr. Golyadkin fell off the cab like a sack of flour and rolled on the ground, quite correctly recognizing, at the moment of his fall, that his excitement had been very inappropriate. Jumping up at last, he saw that they had arrived somewhere; the cab was standing in the middle of some courtyard, and from the first glance our hero noticed that it was the courtyard of the house in which was Olsufy Ivanovitch's flat. At the same instant he noticed that his enemy was mounting the steps, probably on hisM
 way to Olsufy Ivanovitch's. In indescribable misery he was about to pursue his enemy, but, fortunately for himself, prudently thought better of it.
Not forgetting to pay the cabman, Mr. Golyadkin ran with all his might along the street, regardless of where he was going. The snow was falling heavily as before; as before it was muggy, wet, and dark. Out hero did not walk, but flew, coming into collision with every one on the way - men, women and children. About him and after him he heard frightened voices, squealM
s, screams . . . But Mr. Golyadkin seemed unconscious and would pay no heed to anything. . . . He came to himself, however, on Semyonovsky Bridge, and then only through succeeding in tripping against and upsetting two peasant women and the wares they were selling, and tumbling over them.
"That's no matter," thought Mr. Golyadkin, "that can easily be set right," and felt in his pocket at once, intending to make up for the cakes, apples, nuts and various trifles he had scattered with a rouble. Suddenly a new lightM
 dawned upon Mr. Golyadkin; in his pocket he felt the letter given him in the morning by the clerk. Remembering that there was a tavern he knew close by, he ran to it without a moment's delay, settled himself at a little table lighted up by a tallow candle, and, taking no notice of anything, regardless of the waiter who came to ask for his orders, broke the seal and began reading the following letter, which completely astounded him -
"You noble man, who are suffering for my sake, and will be dear to my heart forM
"I am suffering, I am perishing - save me! The slanderer, the intriguer, notorious for the immorality of his tendencies, has entangled me in his snares and I am undone! I am lost! But he is abhorrent to me, while you! . . . They have separated us, they have intercepted my letters to you - and all this has been the vicious man who has taken advantage of his one good quality - his likeness to you. A man can always be plain in appearance, yet fascinate by his intelligence, his strong feelings and his agreeabM
le manners . . . I am ruined! I am being married against my will, and the chief part in this intrigue is taken by my parent, benefactor and civil councillor, Olsufy Ivanovitch, no doubt desirous of securing me a place and relations in well-bred society. . . .
But I have made up my mind and I protest by all the powers bestowed on me by nature. Be waiting for me with a carriage at nine o'clock this evening at the window of Olsufy Ivanovitch's flat. We are having another ball and a handsome lieutenant is coming. I M
will come out and we will fly. Moreover, there are other government offices in which one can be of service to one's country. In any case, remember, my friend, that innocence is strong in its very innocence. Farewell. Wait with the carriage at the entrance. I shall throw myself into the protection of your arms at two o'clock in the night. "Yours till death, "Klara Olsufyevna."
After reading the letter our hero remained for some minutes as though petrified. In terrible anxiety, in terrible agitation, white as a shM
eet, with the letter in his hand, he walked several times up and down the room; to complete the unpleasantness of his position, though our hero failed to observe it, he was at that moment the object of the exclusive attention of every one in the room, his gesticulating with both hands, perhaps some enigmatic words unconsciously addressed to the air, probably all this prejudiced Mr. Golyadkin in the opinion of the customers, and even the waiter began to look at him suspiciously.
Coming to himself, Mr. Golyadkin nM
oticed that he was standing in the middle of the room and was in an almost unseemly, discourteous manner staring at an old man of very respectable appearance who, having dined and said grace before the ikon, had sat down again and fixed his eyes upon Mr. Golyadkin. Our hero looked vaguely about him and noticed that every one, actually every one, was looking at him with a hostile and suspicious air. All at once a retired military man in a red collar asked loudly for the Police News. Mr. Golyadkin started and turned M
crimson: he happened to look down and saw that he was in such disorderly attire as he would not have worn even at home, much less in a public place. His boots, his trousers and the whole of his left side were covered with mud; the trouser-strap was torn off his right foot, and his coat was even torn in many places.
In extreme misery our hero went up to the table at which he had read the letter, ad saw that the attendant was coming up to him with a strange and impudently peremptory expression of face. utterly disM
concerted and crestfallen, our hero began to look about the table at which he was now standing. On the table stood a dirt plate, left there from somebody's dinner, a soled table-napkin and a knife, fork and spoon that had just been used. "Who has been having dinner?" thought our hero. "Can it have been I? Anything is possible! I must have had dinner without noticing it; what am I to do?"
Raising his eyes, Mr. Golyadkin again saw beside him the waiter who was about to address him.
"How much is my bill, my lad?M
" our hero inquired, in a trembling voice.
A loud laugh sounded round Mr. Golyadkin, the waiter himself grinned. Mr. Golyadkin realized that he had blundered again, and had done something dreadfully stupid. He was overcome by confusion, and to avoid standing there with nothing to do he put his hand in his pocket to get out his handkerchief; but to the indescribable amazement of himself and all surrounding him, he pulled out instead of his handkerchief the bottle of medicine which Krestyan Ivanovitch had prescribM
ed for him four days earlier. "Get the medicine at the same chemist's," floated through Mr. Golyadkin's brain. . . .
Suddenly he started and almost cried out in horror. A new light dawned. . . . The dark reddish and repulsive liquid had a sinister gleam to Mr. Golyadkin's eyes. . . . The bottle dropped from his hands and was instantly smashed. Our hero cried out and stepped back a pace to avoid the spilled medicine . . . he was trembling in every limb, and drops of sweat came out on to his brow and temples. "So M
my life is in danger!" Meantime there was a stir, a commotion in the room; every one surrounded Mr. Golyadkin, every one talked to Mr. Golyadkin, some even caught hold of Mr. Golyadkin. But our hero was dumb and motionless, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. . . . At last, as though tearing himself from the place, he rushed out of the tavern, pushing away all and each who tried to detain him; almost unconscious, he got into the first cab that passed him and drove to his flat.
In the entry of his fM
lat he met Mihyeev, an attendant from the office, with an official envelope in his hand.
"I know, my good man, I know all about it," our exhausted hero answered, in a weak, miserable voice; "it's official . . ."
The envelope did, in fact, contain instructions to Mr. Golyadkin, signed by Andrey Filippovitch, to give up the business in his hands to Ivan Semyonovitch. Taking the envelope and giving ten kopecks to the man, Mr. Golyadkin went into his flat and saw that Petrushka was collecting all his odds and endM
s, all his things into a heap, evidently intending to abandon Mr. Golyadkin and move to the flat of Karolina Ivanovna, who had enticed him to take the place of Yevstafy.
Petrushka came in swaggering, with a strangely casual manner and an air of vulgar triumph on his face. It was evident that he had some idea in his head, that he felt thoroughly within his rights, and he looked like an unconcerned spectator - that is, as though he were anybody's servant rather than Mr. Golyadkin's.
 know, my good lad," our hero began breathlessly, "what time is it?"
Without speaking, Petrushka went behind his partition, then returned, and in a rather independent tone announced that it was nearly half-past seven.
"Well, that's all right, my lad, that's all right. Come, you see, my boy . . . allow me to tell you, my good lad, that everything, I fancy, is at an end between us."
Petrushka said nothing.
"Well, now as everything is over between us, tell me openly, as a friend, where you have been."
Where I've been? To see good people, sir."
"I know, my good lad, I know. I have always been satisfied with you, and I give you a character . . . Well, what are you doing with them now?"
"Why, sir! You know yourself. We all know a decent man won't teach you any harm."
"I know, my dear fellow, I know. Nowadays good people are rare, my lad; prize them, my friend. Well, how are they?"
"To be sure, they . . . Only I can't serve you any longer, sir; as your honour must know."
"I know, my dear fellow, I knoM
w your zeal and devotion; I have seen it all, my lad, I've noticed it. I respect you, my friend. I respect a good and honest man, even though he's a lackey."
"Why, yes, to be sure! The like's of us, of course, as you know yourself, are as good as anybody. That's so. We all know, sir, that there's no getting on without a good man."
"Very well, very well, my boy, I feel it. . . . Come, here's your money and here's your character. Now we'll kiss and say good-bye, brother. . . . Come, now, my lad, I'll ask one seM
rvice of you, one last service," said Mr. Golyadkin, in a solemn voice. "You see, my dear boy, all sorts of things happen. Sorrow is concealed in gilded palaces, and there's no escaping it. You know, my boy, I've always been kind to you, my boy.
Petrushka remained mute.
"I believe I've always been kind to you, my dear fellow . . . Come, how much linen have we now, my dear boy?"
"Well, it's all there. Linen shirts six, three pairs of socks; four shirtfronts; flannel vests; of underlinen two sets. You know aM
ll that yourself. I've got nothing of yours, sir. . . . I look after my master's belongings, sir. I am like that, sir . . . we all know . . . and I've . . . never been guilty of anything of the sort, sir, you know yourself, sir . . ."
"I trust you, my lad, I trust you. I didn't mean that, my friend, I didn't mean that, you know, my lad; I tell you what . . . "
"To be sure, sir, we know that already. Why, when I used to be in the service at general Stolnyakov's . . . I lost the lace through the family's going M
away to Saratov . . . they've an estate there . . ."
"No; I didn't mean that, my lad, I didn't mean that; don't think anything of the sort, my dear fellow . . ."
"To be sure. It's easy, as you know yourself, sir, to take away the character of folks like us. And I've always given satisfaction - ministers, generals, senators, counts - I've served them all. I've been at Prince Svintchatkin's, at Colonel Pereborkin's, at General Nedobarov's - they've gone away too, they've gone to their property. As we all know .M
"Yes, my lad, very good, my lad, very good. And now I'm going away, my friend . . . A different path lies before each man, no one can tell what road he may have to take. Come, my lad, put out my clothes now, lay out my uniform too . . . and my other trousers, my sheets, quilts and pillows . . ."
"Am I to pack them all in the bag?"
"Yes, my lad, yes; the bag, please. Who knows what may happen to us. Come, my dear boy, you can go and find a carriage . . ."
"Yes, my lad, a carrM
iage; a roomy one, and take it by the hour. And don't imagine anything . . ."
"Are you planning to go far away, sir?"
"I don't know my lad, I don't know that either. I think you had better pack my feather bed too. What do you think, my lad? I am relying on you, my dear fellow . . ."
"Is your honour setting off at once?"
"Yes, my friend, yes! Circumstances have turned out so . . . so it is, my dear fellow, so it is . . ."
"To be sure, sir; when we were in the regiment the same thing happened to the liM
eutenant; they eloped from a country gentleman's . . ."
"Eloped? . . . How! My dear fellow!"
"Yes, sir, eloped, and they were married in another house. Everything was got ready beforehand. There was a hue and cry after them; the late prince took their part, and so it was all settled . . ."
"They were married, but . . . how is it, my dear fellow . . . How did you come to know, my boy?"
"Why, to be sure! The earth is full of rumours, sir. We know, sir, we've all . . . to be sure, there's no one without siM
n. Only I'll tell you now, sir, let me speak plainly and vulgarly, sir; since it has come to this, I must tell you, sir; you have an enemy - you've a rival, sir, a powerful rival, so there . . ."
"I know, my dear fellow, I know; you know yourself, my dear fellow. . . . So, you see, I'm relying upon you. What are we to do now, my friend! How do you advise me?"
"Well, sir, if you are in that way now, if you've come, so to say, to such a pass, sir, you'll have to make some purchases, sir - say some sheets, pilloM
ws, another feather bed, a double one, a good quilt - here at the neighbours downstairs - she's a shopkeeper, sir - she has a good fox-fur cloak, so you might look at it and buy it, you might have a look at it at once. You'll need it now, sir; it's a good cloak, sir, satin-lined with fox . . ."
"Very good, my lad, very good, I agree; I rely upon you, I rely upon you entirely; a cloak by all means, if necessary . . . Only make haste, make haste! For God's sake make haste! I'll buy the cloak - only please make hasM
te! It will soon be eight o'clock. Make haste for God's sake, my dear lad! Hurry up, my lad . . ."
Petrushka ran up to gather together a bundle of linen, pillows, quilt, sheets, and all sorts of odds and ends, tied them up and rushed headlong out of the room. Meanwhile, Mr. Golyadkin seized the letter once more, but he could not read it. Clutching his devoted head, he leaned against the wall in a state of stupefaction. He could not think of anything, he could do nothing either, and could not even tell what was hM
appening to him. At last, seeing that time was passing and neither Petrushka nor the fur cloak had made their appearance, Mr. Golyadkin made up his mind to go himself. Opening the door into the entry, he heard below noise, talk, disputing and scuffling . . . Several of the women of the neighbouring flats were shouting, talking and protesting about something - Mr. Golyadkin knew what. Petrushka's voice was heard: then there was a sound of footsteps.
"My goodness! They'll bring all the world in here," moaned Mr. GM
olyadkin, wringing his hands in despair and rushing back into his room. Running back into his room, he fell almost senseless on the sofa with his face in the pillow. After lying a minute in this way, he jumped up and, without waiting for Petrushka, he put on his goloshes, his hat and his greatcoat, snatched up his papers and ran headlong downstairs.
"Nothing is wanted, nothing, my dear fellow! I will manage myself - everything myself. I don't need you for the time, and meantime, things may take a better turn, peM
rhaps," Mr. Golyadkin muttered to Petrushka, meeting him on the stair; then he ran out into the yard, away from the house. There was a faintness at his heart, he had not yet made up his mind what was his position, what he was to do, how he was to act in the present critical position.
"Yes, how am I to act? Lord, have mercy on me! And that all this should happen!" he cried out at last in despair, tottering along the street at random; "that all this must needs happen! Why, but for this, but for just this, everythiM
ng would have been put right; at one stroke, at one skilful, vigorous, firm stroke it would have been set right. I would have my finger cut off to have set right!
And I know, indeed, how it would have been settled. This is how it would have been managed: I'd have gone on the spot . . . said how it was . . . 'with your permission, sir, I'm neither here nor there in it . . . things aren't done like that,' I would say, 'my dear sir, things aren't done like that, there's no accepting an imposter in our office; an imM
poster . . . my dear sir, is a man . . . who is worthless and of no service to his country.
Do you understand that? Do you understand that, my dear sir,' I should say! That's how it would be . . . But no . . . after all, things are not like that . . . not a bit like that . . . I am talking nonsense, like a fool! A suicidal fool! It's not like that at all, you suicidal fool . . . This is how things are done, though, you profligate man! . . . Well, what am I to do with myself now? Well, what am I going to do with M
myself now. What am I fit for now? Come, what are you fit for now, for instance, you, Golyadkin, you, you worthless fellow! Well, what now? I must get a carriage; 'hire a carriage and bring it here,' says she, 'we shall get our feet wet without a carriage,' says she . . . And who could ever have thought it! Fie, fie, my young lady! Fie, fie, a young lady of virtuous behaviour! Well, well, the girl we all thought so much of! You've distinguished yourself, madam, there's no doubt of that! you've distinguished yourselM
f! . . . And it all comes from immoral education.
And now that I've looked into it and seen through it all I see that it is due to nothing else but immorality. Instead of looking after her as a child . . . and the rod at times . . . they stuff her with sweets and dainties, and the old man is always doting over her: saying 'my dear, my love, my beauty,' saying, 'we'll marry you to a count!' . . . And now she has come forward herself and shown her cards, as though to say that's her little game! Instead of keeping M
her at home as a child, they sent her to a boarding school, to a French madame, and emigre, a Madame Falbalas or something, and she learned all sorts of things at that Madame Falbalas', and this is how it always turns out. 'Come,' says she, 'and be happy! Be in a carriage,' she says, 'at such a time, under the windows, and sing a sentimental serenade in the Spanish style; I await you and I know you love me, and we will fly together and live in a hut.' But the fact is it's impossible; since it has come to that, madaM
m, it's impossible, it is against the law to abduct an innocent, respectable girl from her parents' roof without their sanction! And, if you come to that, why, what for and what need is there to do it? Come, she should marry a suitable person, the man marked out by destiny, and that would be the end of it. But I'm in the government service, I might lose my berth through it: I might be arrested for it, madam! I tell you that! If you did not know it. It's that German woman's doing. She's a the bottom of it all, the wM
itch; she cooked the whole kettle of fish.
For they've slandered a man, for they've invented a bit of womanish gossip about him, a regular performance by the advice of Andrey Filippovitch, that's what it came from. Otherwise how could Petrushka be mixed up in it? What has he to do with it? What need for the rogue to be in it? No, I cannot, madam, I cannot possibly, not on any account . . . No, madam, this time you must really excuse me. It's all your doing, madam, it's not all the German's doing, it's not the wiM
tch's doing at all, but simply yours. For the witch is a good woman, for the witch is not to blame in any way; it's your fault, madam; it's you who are to blame, let me tell you! I shall not be charged with a crime through you, madam. . . . A man might be ruined . . . a man might lose sight of himself, and not be able to restrain himself - a wedding, indeed! And how is it all going to end? And how will it all be arranged? I would give a great deal to know all that! . . ."
So our hero reflected in his despair. CoM
ming to himself suddenly, he observed that he was standing somewhere in Liteyny Street. The weather was awful: it was a thaw; snow and rain were falling - just as at that memorable time when at the dread hour of midnight all Mr. Golyadkin's troubles had begun. "This is a nice night for a journey!" thought Mr. Golyadkin, looking at the weather; "it's death all round. . . . Good Lord! Where am I to find a carriage, for instance? I believe there's something black there at the corner. We'll see, we'll investigate . . .M
 Lord, have mercy on us!" our hero went on, bending his weak and tottering steps in the direction in which he saw something that looked like a cab.
"No, I know what I'll do; I'll go straight and fall on my knees, if I can, and humbly beg, saying 'I put my fate in your hands, in the hands of my superiors'; saying, 'Your Excellency, be a protector and a benefactor'; and then I'll say this and that, and explain how it is and that it is an unlawful act; 'Do not destroy me, I look upon you as my father, do not abandoM
n me . . . save my dignity, my honour, my name, my reputation . . . and save me from a miscreant, a vicious man. . . . He's another person, your Excellency, and I'm another person too; he's apart and I am myself by myself too; I am really myself by myself, your Excellency; really myself by myself,' that's what I shall say. 'I cannot be like him. Change him, dismiss him, give orders for him to be changed and a godless, licentious impersonation to be suppressed . . . that it may not be an example to others, your ExceM
llency. I look upon you as a father'; those in authority over us, our benefactors and protectors, are bound, of course, to encourage such impulses. . . . There's something chivalrous about it: I shall say, 'I look upon you, my benefactor and superior, as a father, and trust my fate to you, and I will not say anything against it; I put myself in your hands, and retire from the affair myself' . . . that's what I would say."
"Well, my man, are you a cabman?"
"I want a cab for the evening . . ."
"And does your honour want to go far?"
"For the evening, for the evening; wherever I have to go, my man, wherever I have to go."
"Does your honour want to drive out of town?"
"Yes, my friend, out of town, perhaps. I don't quite know myself yet, I can't tell you for certain, my man. Maybe you see it will all be settled for the best. We all know, my friend . . ."
"Yes, sir, of course we all know. Please God it may."
"Yes, my friend, yes; thank you, my dear fellow; come, what's your fare, my good man? M
"Do you want to set off at once?"
"Yes, at once, that is, no, you must wait at a certain place. . . . A little while, not long, you'll have to wait. . . ."
"Well, if you hire me for the whole time, I couldn't ask less than six roubles for weather like this . . ."
"Oh, very well, my friend; and I thank you, my dear fellow. So, come, you can take me now, my good man."
"Get in; allow me, I'll put it straight a bit - now will your honour get in. Where shall I drive?"
"To the Ismailovsky Bridge,M
The driver plumped down on the box, with difficulty roused his pair of lean nags from the trough of hay, and was setting off for Ismailovsky Bridge. But suddenly Mr. Golyadkin pulled the cord, stopped the cab, and besought him in an imploring voice not to drive to Ismailovsky Bridge, but to turn back to another street. The driver turned into another street, and then minutes later Mr. Golyadkin's newly hired equipage was standing before the house in which his Excellency had a flat. Mr. Golyadkin got M
out of the carriage, begged the driver to be sure to wait and with a sinking heart ran upstairs to the third storey and pulled the bell; the door was opened and our hero found himself in the entry of his Excellency's flat.
"Is his Excellency graciously pleased to be at home?" said Mr. Golyadkin, addressing the man who opened the door.
"What do you want?" asked the servant, scrutinizing Mr. Golyadkin from head to foot.
"I, my friend . . . I am Golyadkin, the titular councillor, Golyadkin . . . To say . . . M
something or other . . . to explain . . ."
"You must wait; you cannot . . ."
"My friend, I cannot wait; my business is important, it's business that admits of no delay . . ."
"But from whom have you come? Have you brought papers?. . . "
"No, my friend, I am on my own account. Announce me, my friend, say something or other, explain. I'll reward you, my good man . . ."
"I cannot. His Excellency is not at home, he has visitors. Come at ten o'clock in the morning . . ."
"Take in my name, my good man, M
I can't wait - it is impossible. . . . You'll have to answer for it, my good man."
"Why, go and announce him! What's the matter with you; want to save your shoe leather?" said another lackey who was lolling on the bench and had not uttered a word till then.
"Shoe leather! I was told not to show any one up, you know; their time is the morning."
"Announce him, have you lost your tongue?"
"I'll announce him all right - I've not lost my tongue. It's not my orders; I've told you, it's not my orders. Walk insM
Mr. Golyadkin went into the outermost room; there was a clock on the table. He glanced at it: it was half-past eight. His heart ached within him. Already he wanted to turn back, but at that very moment the footman standing at the door of the next room had already boomed out Mr. Golyadkin's name.
"Oh, what lungs," thought our hero in indescribable misery. "Why, you ought to have said: 'he has come most humbly and meekly to make an explanation . . . something . . . be graciously pleased to see him' . . . M
Now the whole business is ruined; all my hopes are scattered to the winds. But . . . however . . . never mind . . ."
There was no time to think, moreover. The lackey, returning, said, "Please walk in," and led Mr. Golyadkin into the study.
When our hero went in, he felt as though he were blinded, for he could see nothing at all . . . But three or four figures seemed flitting before his eyes: "Oh, yes, they are the visitors," flashed through Mr. Golyadkin's mind. At last our hero could distinguish clearly the M
star on the black coat of his Excellency, then by degrees advanced to seeing the black coat and at last gained the power of complete vision. . . .
"What is it?" said a familiar voice above Mr. Golyadkin.
"The titular councillor, Golyadkin, your Excellency."
"I have come to make an explanation . . ."
"Why, yes. This is how it is. I've come for an explanation, your Excellency . . ."
"But you . . . but who are you? . . ."
"M-m-m-mist-er Golyadkin, your Excellency, a tM
"Well, what is it you want?"
"Why, this is how it is, I look upon you as a father; I retire . . . defend me from my enemy! . . ."
"What's this? . . ."
"What do we all know?"
Mr. Golyadkin was silent: his chin began twitching a little.
"I thought it was chivalrous, your Excellency . . . 'There's something chivalrous in it,' I said, 'and I look upon my superior as a father' . . . this is what I thought; 'protect me, I tear . . . earfully . . . b M
. . . eg and that such imp . . . impulses ought . . . to . . . be encouraged . . ."
His excellency turned away, our hero for some minutes could distinguish nothing. There was a weight on his chest. His breathing was laboured; he did not know where he was standing . . . He felt ashamed and sad. God knows what followed. . . Recovering himself, our hero noticed that his Excellency was talking with his guests, and seemed to be briskly and emphatically discussing something with them. One of the visitors Mr. GolyadkinM
 recognized at once. This was Andrey Filippovitch; he knew no one else; yet there was another person that seemed familiar - a tall, thick-set figure, middle-aged, possessed of very thick eyebrows and whiskers and a significant sharp expression. On his chest was an order and in his mouth a cigar. This gentleman was smoking and nodding significantly without taking the cigar out of his mouth, glancing from time to time at Mr. Golyadkin.
Mr. Golyadkin felt awkward; he turned away his eyes and immediately saw anotherM
 very strange visitor. Through a door which our hero had taken for a looking-glass, just as he had done once before - he made his appearance - we know who: a very intimate friend and acquaintance of Mr. Golyadkin's. Mr. Golyadkin junior had actually been till then in a little room close by, hurriedly writing something; now, apparently, he was needed - and he came in with papers under his arm, went up to his Excellency, and while waiting for exclusive attention to be paid him succeeded very adroitly in putting his sM
poke into the talk and consultation, taking his place a little behind Andrey Filippovitch's back and partly screening him from the gentleman smoking the cigar. Apparently Mr. Golyadkin junior took an intense interest in the conversation, to which he was listening now in a gentlemanly way, nodding his head, fidgeting with his feet, smiling, continually looking at his Excellency - as it were beseeching him with his eyes to let him put his word in.
"The scoundrel," thought Mr. Golyadkin, and involuntarily he took aM
 step forward. At this moment his Excellency turned round and came rather hesitatingly towards Mr. Golyadkin.
"Well, that's all right, that's all right; well, run along, now. I'll look into your case, and give orders for you to be taken . . ."
At this point his Excellency glanced at the gentleman with the thick whiskers. The latter nodded in assent.
Mr. Golyadkin felt and distinctly understood that they were taking him for something different and not looking at him in the proper light at all.
y or another I must explain myself," he thought; "I must say, 'This is how it is, your Excellency.'"
At this point in his perplexity he dropped his eyes to the floor and to his great astonishment he saw a good-sized patch of something white on his Excellency's boots.
"Can there be a hole in them?" thought Mr. Golyadkin. Mr. Golyadkin was, however, soon convinced that his Excellency's boots were not split, but were only shining brilliantly - a phenomenon fully explained by the fact that they were patent leatheM
r and highly polished.
"It is what they call blick," thought our hero; "the term is used particularly in artists studios; in other places such a reflected light is called a rib of light."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin raised his eyes and saw that the time had come to speak, for things might easily end badly . . .
Our hero took a step forward.
"I say this is how it is, your Excellency," he said, "and there's no accepting imposters nowadays."
His Excellency made no answer, but rang the bell violently. OuM
r hero took another step forward.
"He is a vile, vicious man, your Excellency," said our hero, beside himself and faint with terror, though he still pointed boldly and resolutely at his unworthy twin, who was fidgeting about near his Excellency. "I say this is how it is, and I am alluding to a well-known person."
There was a general sensation at Mr. Golyadkin's words. Andrey Filippovitch and the gentleman with the cigar nodded their heads; his Excellency impatiently tugged at the bell to summon the servants. M
At this point Mr. Golyadkin junior came forward in his turn.
"Your Excellency," he said, "I humbly beg permission to speak." There was something very resolute in Mr. Golyadkin junior's voice; everything showed that he felt himself completely in the right.
"Allow me to ask you," he began again, anticipating his Excellency's reply in his eagerness, and this time addressing Mr. Golyadkin; "allow me to ask you, in whose presence you are making this explanation? Before whom are you standing, in whose room are you?M
Mr. Golyadkin junior was in a state of extraordinary excitement, flushed and glowing with wrath and indignation; there were positively tears in his eyes.
A lackey, appearing in the doorway, roared at the top of his voice the name of some new arrivals, the Bassavryukovs.
"A good aristocratic name, hailing from Little Russia," thought Mr. Golyadkin, and at that moment he felt some one lay a very friendly hand on his back, then a second hand was laid on his back. Mr. Golyadkin's infamous twin was tripM
ping about in front leading the way; and our hero saw clearly that he was being led to the big doors of the room.
"Just as it was at Olsufy Ivanovitch's," he thought, and he found himself in the hall. Looking round, he saw beside him two of the Excellency's lackeys and his twin.
"The greatcoat, the greatcoat, the greatcoat, the greatcoat, my friend! The greatcoat of my best friend!" whispered the depraved man, snatching the coat from one of the servants, and by way of a nasty and ungentlemanly joke flinging iM
t straight at Mr. Golyadkin's head. Extricating himself from under his coat, Mr. Golyadkin distinctly heard the two lackeys snigger. But without listening to anything, or paying attention to it, he went out of the hall and found himself on the lighted stairs. Mr. Golyadkin junior following him.
"Goodbye, your Excellency!" he shouted after Mr. Golyadkin senior.
"Scoundrel!" our hero exclaimed, beside himself.
"Well, scoundrel, then . . ."
"Depraved man! . . ."
"Well, depraved man, then . . ." answeredM
 Mr. Golyadkin's unworthy enemy, and with his characteristic baseness he looked down from the top of the stairs straight into Mr. Golyadkin's face as though begging him to go on. Our hero spat with indignation and ran out of the front door; he was so shattered, so crushed, that he had no recollection of how he got into the cab or who helped him in. Coming to himself, he found that he was being driven to Fontanka. "To Ismailovsky Bridge, then," thought Mr. Golyadkin. At this point Mr. Golyadkin tried to think of somM
ething else, but could not; there was something so terrible that he could not explain it . . . "Well, never mind," our hero concluded, and he drove to Ismailovsky Bridge.
. . . It seemed as though the weather meant to change for the better. The snow, which had till then been coming down in regular clouds, began growing visible and here and there tiny stars sparkled in it. It was only wet, muddy, damp and stifling, especially for Mr. Golyadkin, who could hardly breathe as it was. His greatcoat, M
soaked and heavy with wet, sent a sort of unpleasant warm dampness all through him and weighed down his exhausted legs.
A feverish shiver sent sharp, shooting pains all over him; he was in a painful cold sweat of exhaustion, so much so that Mr. Golyadkin even forgot to repeat at every suitable occasion with his characteristic firmness and resolution his favourite phrase that "it all, maybe, most likely, indeed, might turn out for the best." "But all this does not matter for the time," our hero repeated, still stM
aunch and not downhearted, wiping from his face the cold drops that streamed in all directions from the brim of his round hat, which was so soaked that it could hold no more water. Adding that all this was nothing so far, our hero tried to sit on a rather thick clump of wood, which was lying near a heap of logs in Olsufy Ivanovitch's yard.
Of course, it was no good thinking of Spanish serenades or silken ladders, but it was quite necessary to think of a modest corner, snug and private, if not altogether warm. HeM
 felt greatly tempted, we may mention in passing, by that corner in the back entry of Olsufy Ivanovitch's flat in which he had once, almost at the beginning of this true story, stood for two hours between a cupboard and an old screen among all sorts of domestic odds and ends and useless litter. The fact is that Mr. Golyadkin had been standing waiting for two whole hours on this occasion in Olsufy Ivanovitch's yard. But in regard to that modest and snug little corner there were certain drawbacks which had not existeM
d before. The first drawback was the fact that it was probably now a marked place and that certain precautionary measures had been taken in regard to it since the scandal at Olsufy Ivanovitch's last ball. Secondly, he had to wait for a signal from Klara Olsufyevna, for there was bound to be some such signal, it was always a feature in such cases and, "it didn't begin with us and it won't end with us."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin very appropriately remembered a novel he had read long ago in which the heroine, in M
precisely similar circumstances, signalled to Alfred by tying a pink ribbon to her window. But now, at night, in the climate of Petersburg, famous for its dampness and unreliability, a pink ribbon was hardly appropriate and, in fact, was utterly out of the question.
"No, it's not a matter of silk ladders," thought our hero, "and I had better stay here quietly and comfortably . . . I had better stand here."
And he selected a place in the yard exactly opposite the window, near a stack of firewood. Of course, maM
ny persons, grooms and coachmen, were continually crossing the yard, and there was, besides, the rumbling of wheels and the snorting of horses and so on; yet it was a convenient place, whether he was observed or not; but now, anyway, there was the advantage of being to some extent in the shadow, and no one could see Mr. Golyadkin while he himself could see everything.
The windows were brightly lit up, there was some sort of ceremonious party at Olsufy Ivanovitch's. But he could hear no music as yet.
not a ball, but a party of some other sort," thought our hero, somewhat aghast. "Is it today?" floated the doubt through him. "Have I made a mistake in the date? Perhaps; anything is possible. . . . Yes, to be sure, anything is possible . . . Perhaps she wrote a letter to me yesterday, and it didn't reach me, and perhaps it did not reach me because Petrushka put his spoke in, the rascal! Or it was tomorrow, that is - wait with a carriage. . . ."
At this point our hero turned cold all over and felt in his pocket M
for the letter, to make sure. But to his surprise the letter was not in his pocket.
"How's this?" muttered Mr. Golyadkin, more dead than alive. "Where did I leave it? Then I must have lost it. That is the last straw!" he moaned at last. "Oh, if it falls into evil hands! Perhaps in has already. Good Lord! What may it not lead to! It may lead to something such that . . . Ach, my miserable fate!" At this point Mr. Golyadkin began trembling like a leaf at the thought that perhaps his vicious twin had thrown the greaM
tcoat at him with the object of stealing the letter of which he had somehow got an inkling from Mr. Golyadkin's enemies.
"What's more, he's stealing it," thought our hero, "as evidence . . . but why evidence! . . ."
After the first shock of horror, the blood rushed to Mr. Golyadkin's head. Moaning and gnashing his teeth, he clutched his burning head, sank back on his block of wood and relapsed into brooding. . . . But he could form no coherent thought. Figures kept flitting through his brain, incidents came bM
ack to his memory, now vaguely, now very distinctly, the tunes of some foolish songs kept ringing in his ears. . . . He was in great distress, unnatural distress!
"My God, my God!" our hero thought, recovering himself a little, and suppressing a muffled sob, "give me fortitude in the immensity of my afflictions! That I am done for, utterly destroyed - of that there can be no doubt, and that's all in the natural order of things, since it cannot be otherwise. To begin with, I've lost my berth, I've certainly lost M
it, I must have lost it . . . Well, supposing things are set right somehow. Supposing I have money enough to begin with: I must have another lodging, furniture of some sort. . . . In the first place, I shan't have Petrushka. I can get on without the rascal . . . somehow, with help from the people of the house; well, that will be all right! I can go in and out when I like, and Petrushka won't grumble at my coming in late - yes, that is so; that's why it's a good thing to have the people in the house. . . . Well, supM
posing that's all right; but all that's nothing to do with it."
At this point the thought of the real position again dawned upon Mr. Golyadkin's memory. He looked round.
"Oh, Lord, have mercy on me, have mercy on me! What am I talking about?" he thought, growing utterly desperate and clutching his burning head in his hands. . . .
"Won't you soon be going, sir?" a voice pronounced above Mr. Golyadkin. Our hero started; before him stood his cabman, who was also drenched through and shivering; growing impatieM
nt, and having nothing to do, he had thought fit to take a look at Mr. Golyadkin behind the woodstack.
"I am all right, my friend . . . I am coming soon, soon, very soon; you wait . . ."
The cabman walked away, grumbling to himself. "What is he grumbling about?" Mr. Golyadkin wondered through his tears. "Why, I have hired him for the evening, why, I'm . . . within my rights now . . . that's so! I've hired him for the evening and that's the end of it. If one stands still, it's just the same. That's for me to dM
ecide. I am free to drive on or not to drive on. And my staying here by the woodstack has nothing to do with the case. . . and don't dare to say anything; think, the gentleman wants to stand behind the woodstack, and so he's standing behind it . . . and he is not disgracing any one's honour! That's the fact of the matter.
"I tell you what is it is, madam, if you care to know. Nowadays, madam, nobody lives in a hut, or anything of that sort. No, indeed. And in our industrial age there's no getting on without moraM
lity, a fact of which you are a fatal example, madam . . . You say we must get a job as a register clerk and live in a hut on the sea-shore. In the first place, madam, there are no register clerks on the sea-shore, and in the second place we can't get a job as a register clerk. For supposing, for example, I send in a petition, present myself - saying a register clerk's place or something of the sort . . . and defend me from my enemy . . . they'll tell you, madam, they'll say, to be sure . . . we've lots of registerM
 clerks, and here you are not at Madame Falbalas', where you learnt the rules of good behaviour of which you are a fatal example. Good behaviour, madam, means staying at home, honouring your father and not thinking about suitors prematurely.
Suitors will come in good time, madam, that's so! Of course, you are bound to have some accomplishments, such as playing the piano sometimes, speaking French, history, geography, scripture and arithmetic, that's the truth of it! And that's all you need. Cooking, too, cookingM
 certainly forms part of the education of a well-behaved girl! But as it is, in the first place, my fine lady, they won't let you go, they'll raise a hue and cry after you, and then they'll lock you up in a nunnery. How will it be then, madam? What will you have me do then? Would you have me, madam, follow the example of some stupid novels, and melt into tears on a neighbouring hillock, gazing at the cold walls of your prison house, and finally die, following the example of some wretched German poets and novelists.M
 Is that it, madam? But, to begin with, allow me to tell you, as a friend, that things are not done like that, and in the second place I would have given you and your parents, too, a good thrashing for letting you read French books; for French books teach you no good. There's a poison in them . . . a pernicious poison, madam!
Or do you imagine, allow me to ask you, or do you imagine that we shall elope with impunity, or something of that sort . . . that was shall have a hut on the shore of the sea and so on; andM
 that we shall begin billing and cooing and talking about our feelings, and that so we shall spend our lives in happiness and content; and then there would be little ones - so then we shall . . . shall go to our father, the civil councillor, Olsufy Ivanovitch, and say, 'we've got a little one, and so, on this propitious occasion remove your curse, and bless the couple.' No, madam, I tell you again, that's not the way to do things, and for the first thing there'll be no billing and cooing and please don't reckon on M
it. Nowadays, madam, the husband is the master and a good, well-brought-up wife should try and please him in every way.
And endearments, madam, are not in favour, nowadays, in our industrial age; the day of Jean Jacques Rousseau is over. The husband comes home, for instance, hungry from the office, and asks, 'Isn't there something to eat, my love, a drop of vodka to drink, a bit of salt fish to eat?' So then, madam, you must have the vodka and the herring ready. Your husband will eat it with relish, and he won'tM
 so much as look at you, he'll only say 'Run into the kitchen, kitten,' he'll say, 'and look after the dinner, and at most, once a week, he'll kiss you, even then rather indifferently . . . That's how it will be with us, my young lady! Yes, even then indifferently. . . . That's how it will be, if one considers it, if it has come to one's looking at the thing in that way. . . . And how do I come in? Why have you mixed me up in your caprices? 'The noble man who is suffering for your sake and will be dear to your hearM
t for ever,' and so on. but in the first place, madam, I am not suited to you, you know yourself, I'm not a great hand at compliments, I'm not fond of uttering perfumed trifles for the ladies. I'm not fond of lady-killers, and I must own I've never been a beauty to look at. You won't find any swagger or false shame in me, and I tell you so now in all sincerity. This is the fact of the matter: we can boast of nothing but a straightforward, open character and common sense; we have nothing to do with intrigues. I am nM
ot one to intrigue, I say so and I'm proud of it - that's the fact of the matter! . . . I wear no mask among straightforward people, and to tell you the whole truth. . . ."
Suddenly Mr. Golyadkin started. The red and perfectly sopping beard of the cabman appeared round the woodstack again. . . .
"I am coming directly, my friend. I'm coming at once, you know," Mr. Golyadkin responded in a trembling and failing voice.
The cabman scratched his head, then stroked his beard, and moved a step forward. . . stood M
still and looked suspiciously at Mr. Golyadkin.
"I am coming directly, my friend; you see, my friend . . . I . . . just a little, you see, only a second! . . . more . . . here, you see, my friend. . . ."
"Aren't you coming at all?" the cabman asked at last, definitely coming up to Mr. Golyadkin.
"No, my friend, I'm coming directly. I am waiting, you see, my friend. . . ."
"You see, my friend, I . . . What part of the country do you come from, my friend?"
"We are under a master . .M
"And have you a good master? . . ."
"Yes, my friend; you stay here, my friend, you see . . . Have you been in Petersburg long, my friend?"
"It's a year since I came . . ."
"And are you getting on all right, my friend?"
"To be sure, my friend, to be sure. You must thank Providence, my friend. You must look out for straightforward people. Straightforward people are non too common nowadays, my friend; he would give you washing, food, and drink, my good fellow, a gM
ood man would. But sometimes you see tears shed for the sake of gold, my friend . . . you see a lamentable example; that's the fact of the matter, my friend. . . ."
The cabman seemed to feel sorry for Mr. Golyadkin. "Well, your honour, I'll wait. Will your honour be waiting long?"
"No, my friend, no; I . . . you know . . . I won't wait any longer, my good man . . . What do you think, my friend? I rely upon you. I won't stay any longer."
"Aren't you going at all?"
"No, my friend, no; I'll reward you, my M
friend . . . that's the fact of the matter. How much ought I to give you, my dear fellow?"
"What you hired me for, please, sir. I've been waiting here a long time; don't be hard on a man, sir."
"Well, here, my good man, here."
At this point Mr. Golyadkin gave six roubles to the cabman, and made up his mind in earnest to waste no more time, that is, to clear off straight away, especially as the cabman was dismissed and everything was over, and so it was useless to wait longer. He rushed out of the yard, wenM
t out of the gate, turned to the left and without looking round took to his heels, breathless and rejoicing.
"Perhaps it will all be for the best," he thought, "and perhaps in this way I've run away from trouble." Mr. Golyadkin suddenly became all at once light-hearted. "Oh, if only it could turn out for the best!" thought our hero, though he put little faith in his own words. "I know what I'll do . . ." he thought. "No, I know, I'd better try the other tack . . . Or wouldn't it be better to do this? . . ." In tM
his way, hesitating and seeking for the solution of his doubts, our hero ran to Semyonovsky Bridge; but while running to Semyonovsky Bridge he very rationally and conclusively decided to return.
"It will be better so," he thought. "I had better try the other tack, that is . . . I will just go - I'll look on simply as an outsider, an outsider - and nothing more, whatever happens - it's not my fault, that's the fact of the matter! That's how it shall be now."
Deciding to return, our hero actually did return, thM
e more readily because with this happy thought he conceived of himself now as quite an outsider.
"It's the best thing; one's not responsible for anything, and one will see all that's necessary . . . that's the fact of the matter!"
It was a safe plan and that settled it. Reassured, he crept back under the peaceful shelter of his soothing and protecting woodstack, and began gazing intently at the window. This time he was not destined to gaze and wait long. Suddenly a strange commotion became apparent at all theM
 windows. Figures appeared, curtains were drawn back, whole groups of people were crowding to the windows at Olsufy Ivanovitch's flat. All were peeping out looking for something in the yard.
From the security of his woodstack, our hero, too, began with curiosity watching the general commotion, and with interest craned forward to right and to left so far as he could within the shadow of the woodstack. Suddenly he started, held his breath and almost sat down with horror. It seemed to him - in short, he realized, tM
hat they were looking for nothing and for nobody but him, Mr. Golyadkin! Every one was looking in his direction. It was impossible to escape; they saw him . . . In a flutter, Mr. Golyadkin huddled as closely as he could to the woodstack, and only then noticed that the treacherous shadow had betrayed him, that it did not cover him completely.
Our hero would have been delighted at that moment to creep into a mouse-hole in the woodstack, and there meekly to remain, if only it had been possible. But it was absolutelM
y impossible. In his agony he began at last staring openly and boldly at the windows, it was the best thing to do. . . . And suddenly he glowed with shame. He had been fully discovered, every one was staring at him at once, they were all waving their hands, all were nodding their heads at him, all were calling to him; then several windows creaked as they opened, several voices shouted something to him at once. . . .
"I wonder why they don't whip these naughty girls as children," our hero muttered to himself, losM
ing his head completely. Suddenly there an down the steps he (we know who), without his hat or greatcoat, breathless, rubbing his hands, wriggling, capering, perfidiously displaying intense joy at seeing Mr. Golyadkin.
"Yakov Petrovitch," whispered this individual, so notorious for his worthlessness, "Yakov Petrovitch, are you here? You'll catch cold. It's chilly here, Yakov Petrovitch. Come indoors."
"Yakov Petrovitch! No, I'm all right, Yakov Petrovitch," our hero muttered in a submissive voice.
s won't do, Yakov Petrovitch, I beg you, I humbly beg you to wait with us. 'Make him welcome and bring him in,' they say, 'Yakov Petrovitch.'"
"No, Yakov Petrovitch, you see, I'd better . . . I had better go home, Yakov Petrovitch . . ." said our hero, burning at a slow fire and freezing at the same time with shame and terror.
"No - no - no - no!" whispered the loathsome person. "No - no - no, on no account! Come along," he said resolutely, and he dragged Mr. Golyadkin senior to the steps. Mr. Golyadkin senioM
r did not at all want to go, but as every one was looking at them, it would have been stupid to struggle and resist; so our hero went - though, indeed, one cannot say that he went, because he did not know in the least what was being done with him. Though, after all, it made no difference!
Before our hero had time to recover himself and come to his senses, he found himself in the drawing-room. He was pale, dishevelled, harassed; with lustreless eyes he scanned the crowd - horror! The drawing-room, all the rooms -M
 were full to overflowing. There were masses of people, a whole galaxy of ladies; and all were crowding round Mr. Golyadkin and he perceived clearly that they were all forcing him in one direction.
"Not towards the door," was the thought that floated through Mr. Golyadkin's mind.
They were, in fact, forcing him not towards the door but Olsufy Ivanovitch's easy chair. On one side of the armchair stood Klara Olsufyevna, pale, languid, melancholy, but gorgeously dressed. Mr. Golyadkin was particularly struck by M
a little white flower which rested on her superb hair. On the other side of the armchair stood Vladimir Semyonovitch, clad in black, with his new order in his buttonhole. Mr. Golyadkin was led in, as we have described above, straight up to Olsufy Ivanovitch - on one side of him Mr. Golyadkin junior, who had assumed an air of great decorum and propriety, to the immense relief of our hero, while on the other side was Andrey Filippovitch, with a very solemn expression on his face.
"What can it mean?" Mr. Golyadkin M
When he saw that he was being led to Olsufy Ivanovitch, an idea struck him like a flash of lightning. The thought of the intercepted letter darted through his brain. In great agony our hero stood before Olsufy Ivanovitch's chair.
"What will he say now?" he wondered to himself. "Of course, it will be all aboveboard now, that is, straightforward and, one may say, honourable; I shall say this is how it is, and so on."
But what our hero apparently feared did not happen. Olsufy Ivanovitch received Mr.M
 Golyadkin very warmly, and though he did not hold out his hand to him, yet as he gazed at out hero, he shook his grey and venerable head - shook it with an air of solemn melancholy and yet of goodwill. So, at least, it seemed to Mr. Golyadkin. He even fancied that a tear glittered in Olsufy Ivanovitch's lustreless eyes; he raised his eyes and saw that there seemed to be tears, too, on the eyelashes of Klara Olsufyevna, who was standing by - that there seemed to be something of the same sort even in the eyes of VlaM
dimir Semyonovitch - that the unruffled and composed dignity of Andrey Filippovitch has the same significance as the general tearful sympathy - that even the young man who was so much like a civil councillor, seizing the opportunity, was sobbing bitterly. . . . Though perhaps this was only all Mr. Golyadkin's fancy, because he was so much moved himself, and distinctly felt the hot tears running down his cheeks. . . .
Feeling reconciled with mankind and his destiny, and filled with love at the moment, not only foM
r Olsufy Ivanovitch, not only for the whole part collected there, but even for his noxious twin (who seemed now to be by no means noxious, and not even to be his twin at all, but a person very agreeable in himself and in no way connected with him), our hero, in a voice broken with sobs, tried to express his feelings to Olsufy Ivanovitch, but was too much overcome by all that he had gone through, and could not utter a word; he could only, with an expressive gesture, point meekly to his heart. . .
y to spare the feelings of the old man, Andrey Filippovitch led Mr. Golyadkin a little away, though he seemed to leave him free to do as he liked. Smiling, muttering something to himself, somewhat bewildered, yet almost completely reconciled with fate and his fellow creatures, our hero began to make his way through the crowd of guests. Every one made way for him, every one looked at him with strange curiosity and with mysterious, unaccountable sympathy.
Our hero went into another room; he met with the same attenM
tion everywhere; he was vaguely conscious of the whole crowd closely following him, noting every step he took, talking in undertones among themselves of something very interesting, shaking their heads, arguing and discussing in whispers. Mr. Golyadkin wanted very much to know what they were discussing in whispers. Looking round, he saw near him Mr. Golyadkin junior. Feeling an overwhelming impulse to seize his hand and draw him aside, Mr. Golyadkin begged the other Yakov Petrovitch most particularly to co-operate wM
ith him in all his future undertakings, and not to abandon him at a critical moment. Mr. Golyadkin junior nodded his head gravely and warmly pressed the hand of Mr. Golyadkin senior. Our hero's heart was quivering with hte intensity of his emotion. He was gasping for breath, however; he felt so oppressed - so oppressed; he felt that all those eyes fastened upon him were oppressing and dominating him . . . . Mr. Golyadkin caught a glimpse of the councillor who wore a wig. The latter was looking at him with a stern, M
searching eye, not in the least softened by the general sympathy. . . .
Our hero made up his mind to go straight up to him in order to smile at him and have an immediate explanation, but this somehow did not come off. For one instant Mr. Golyadkin became almost unconscious, almost lost all memory, all feeling.
When he came to himself again he noticed that he was the centre of a large ring formed by the rest of the party round him. Suddenly Mr. Golyadkin's name was called from the other room; noise and excitemM
ent, all rushed to the door of the first room, almost carrying our hero along with them. In the crush the hard-hearted councillor in the wig was side by side with Mr. Golyadkin, and, taking our hero by the hand, he made him sit down opposite Olsufy Ivanovitch, at some distance from the latter, however.
Every one in the room sat down; the guests were arranged in rows round Mr. Golyadkin and Olsufy Ivanovitch. Everything was hushed; every one preserved a solemn silence; every one was watching Olsufy Ivanovitch, evM
idently expecting something out of the ordinary. Mr. Golyadkin noticed that beside Olsufy Ivanovitch's chair and directly facing the councillor sat Mr. Golyadkin junior, with Andrey Filippovitch. The silence was prolonged; they were evidently expecting something.
"Just as it is in a family when some one is setting off on a far journey. We've only to stand up and pray now," thought our hero.
Suddenly there was a general stir which interrupted Mr. Golyadkin's reflections. Something they had been waiting for hapM
"He is coming, he is coming!" passed from one to another in the crowd.
"Who is it that is coming?" floated through Mr. Golyadkin's mind, and he shuddered at a strange sensation. "High time too!" said the councillor, looking intently at Andrey Ivanovitch. Andrey Filippovitch, for his part, glanced at Olsufy Ivanovitch. Olsufy Ivanovitch gravely and solemnly nodded his head.
"Let us stand up," said the councillor, and he made Mr. Golyadkin get up. All rose to their feet. Then the councillor took Mr. GM
olyadkin senior by the hand, and Andrey Filippovitch took Mr. Golyadkin junior, and in this way these two precisely similar persons were conducted through the expectant crowd surrounding them. Our hero looked about him in perplexity; but he was at once checked and his attention was called to Mr. Golyadkin junior, who was holding out his hand to him.
"They want to reconcile us," thought our hero, and with emotion he held out his hand to Mr. Golyadkin junior; and then - then bent his head forward towards him. The M
other Mr. Golyadkin did the same. . . .
At this point it seemed to Mr. Golyadkin senior that his perfidious friend was smiling, that he gave a sly, hurried wink to the crowd of onlookers, and that there was something sinister in the face of the worthless Mr. Golyadkin junior, that he even made a grimace at the moment of his Judas kiss. . . .
There was a ringing in Mr. Golyadkin's ears, and a darkness before his eyes; it seemed to him that an infinite multitude, an unending series of precisely similar GolyadkiM
ns were noisily bursting in at every door of the room; but it was too late. . . . the resounding, treacherous kiss was over, and . . .
Then quite an unexpected event occurred. . . . The door opened noisily, and in the doorway stood a man, the very sight of whom sent a chill to Mr. Golyadkin's heart. He stood rooted to the spot. A cry of horror died away in his choking throat. Yet Mr. Golyadkin knew it all beforehand, and had had a presentiment of something of the sort for a long time.
The new arrival went up M
to Mr. Golyadkin gravely and solemnly. Mr. Golyadkin knew this personage very well. He had seen him before, had seen him very often, had seen him that day . . . This personage was a tall, thick-set man in a black dress-coat with a good-sized cross on his breast, and was possessed of thick, very black whiskers; nothing was lacking but the cigar in the mouth to complete the picture. Yet this person's eyes, as we have mentioned already, sent a chill to the heart of Mr. Golyadkin. With a grave and solemn air this terriM
ble man approached the pitiable hero of our story. . . . Our hero held out his hand to him; the stranger took his hand and drew him along with him . . . With a crushed and desperate air our hero looked about him.
"It's . . . it's Krestyan Ivanovitch Rutenspitz, doctor of medicine and surgery; your old acquaintance, Yakov Petrovitch!" a detestable voice whispered in Mr. Golyadkin's ear. He looked around: it was Mr. Golyadkin's twin, so revolting in the despicable meanness of his soul. A malicious, indecent joy shM
one in his countenance; he was rubbing his hands with rapture, he was turning his head from side to side in ecstasy, he was fawning round every one in delight and seemed ready to dance with glee.
At last he pranced forward, took a candle from one of the servants and walked in front, showing the way to Mr. Golyadkin and Krestyan Ivanovitch. Mr. Golyadkin heard the whole party in the drawing-room rush after him, crowding and squeezing one another, and all beginning to repeat after Mr. Golyadkin himself, "It is allM
 right, don't be afraid, Yakov Petrovitch; this is you old friend and acquaintance, you know, Krestyan Ivanovitch Rutenspitz. . ."
At last they came out on the brightly lighted stairs; there was a crowd of people on the stairs too. The front door was thrown open noisily, and Mr. Golyadkin found himself on the steps, together with Krestyan Ivanovitch. At the entrance stood a carriage with four horses that were snorting with impatience. The malignant Mr. Golyadkin junior in three bounds flew down the stair and opeM
ned the carriage door himself.
Krestyan Ivanovitch, with an impressive gesture, asked Mr. Golyadkin to get in. There was no need of the impressive gesture, however; there were plenty of people to help him in. . . . Faint with horror, Mr. Golyadkin looked back. The whole of the brightly lighted staircase was crowded with people; inquisitive eyes were looking at him from all sides; Olsufy Ivanovitch himself was sitting in his easy chair on the top landing, and watching all that took place with deep interest. EveryM
 one was waiting. A murmur of impatience passed through the crowd when Mr. Golyadkin looked back.
"I hope I have done nothing . . . nothing reprehensible . . . or that can call for severity . . . and general attention in regard to my official relations," our hero brought out in desperation. A clamour of talk rose all round him, all were shaking their head, tears started from Mr. Golyadkin's eyes.
"In that case I'm ready . . . I have full confidence . . . and I entrust my fate to Krestyan Ivanovitch. . . ."
No sooner had Mr. Golyadkin declared that he entrusted his fate to Krestyan Ivanovitch than a dreadful, deafening shout of joy came from all surrounding him and was repeated in a sinister echo through the whole of the waiting crowd. Then Krestyan Ivanovitch on one side and Andrey Filippovitch on the other helped Mr. Golyadkin into the carriage; his double, in his usual nasty way, was helping to get him in from behind.
The unhappy Mr. Golyadkin senior took his last look on all and everything, and, shivering likeM
 a kitten that has been drenched with cold water - if the comparison may be permitted - got into the carriage. Krestyan Ivanovitch followed him immediately. The carriage door slammed. There was a swish of the whip on the horses' backs. . . the horses started off. . . . The crowd dashed after Mr. Golyadkin. The shrill, furious shouts of his enemies pursued him by way of good wishes for his journey. For some time several persons were still running by the carriage that bore away Mr. Golyadkin; but by degrees they wereM
 left behind, till at last they all disappeared. Mr. Golyadkin's unworthy twin kept up longer than any one.
With his hands in the trouser pockets of his green uniform he ran on with a satisfied air, skipping first to one and then to the other side of the carriage, sometimes catching hold of the window-frame and hanging on by it, poking his head in at the window, and throwing farewell kisses to Mr. Golyadkin. But he began to get tired, he was less and less often to be seen, and at last vanished altogether. There M
was a dull ache in Mr. Golyadkin's heart; a hot rush of blood set Mr. Golyadkin's head throbbing; he felt stifled, he longed to unbutton himself - to bare his breast, to cover it with snow and pour cold water on it. He sank at last into forgetfulness. . . .
When he came to himself, he saw that the horses were taking him along an unfamiliar road. There were dark patches of copse on each side of it; it was desolate and deserted. Suddenly he almost swooned; two fiery eyes were staring at him in the darkness, and thM
ose two eyes were glittering with malignant, hellish glee. "That's not Krestyan Ivanovitch! Who is it? Or is it he? It is. It is Krestyan Ivanovitch, but not the old Krestyan Ivanovitch, it's another Krestyan Ivanovitch! It's a terrible Krestyan Ivanovitch!" . . .
"Krestyan Ivanovitch, I . . . I believe . . . I'm all right, Krestyan Ivanovitch," our hero was beginning timidly in a trembling voice, hoping by his meekness and submission to soften the terrible Krestyan Ivanovitch a little.
"You get free quartersM
, wood, with light, and service, the which you deserve not," Krestyan Ivanovitch's answer rang out, stern and terrible as a judge's sentence.
Our hero shrieked and clutched his head in his hands. Alas! For a long while he had been haunted by a presentiment of this.
Dated January 30, 1846
From online-literature.com
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
by William Shakespeare
Scene I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.
Scene II. Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle
Scene III. A room in Polonius
Scene IV. The platform.
Scene V. A more remote part of the Castle.
Scene I. A room in Polonius
Scene II. A room in the Castle.
Scene I. A room in the Castle.
Scene II. A hall in the Castle.
Scene III. A room in the Castle.
Scene IV. Another room iM
Scene I. A room in the Castle.
Scene II. Another room in the Castle.
Scene III. Another room in the Castle.
Scene IV. A plain in Denmark.
Scene V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
Scene VI. Another room in the Castle.
Scene VII. Another room in the Castle.
Scene I. A churchyard.
Scene II. A hall in the Castle.
HAMLET, Prince of Denmark.
CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark, Hamlet
The GHOST of the late king, Hamlet
GERTRUDE, the QueenM
s mother, now wife of Claudius.
POLONIUS, Lord Chamberlain.
LAERTES, Son to Polonius.
OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius.
HORATIO, Friend to Hamlet.
FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway.
VOLTEMAND, Courtier.
CORNELIUS, Courtier.
ROSENCRANTZ, Courtier.
GUILDENSTERN, Courtier.
FRANCISCO, a Soldier
REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius.
A Gentleman, Courtier.
Two Clowns, Grave-diggers.
English Ambassadors.
fficers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, and Attendants.
SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.
 Enter Francisco and Barnardo, two sentinels.
FRANCISCO. Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
BARNARDO. Long live the King!
FRANCISCO. Barnardo?
FRANCISCO. You come most carefully upon your hour.
Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
FRANCISCO. For this relief much thanks.
bitter cold, And I am sick
BARNARDO. Have you had quiet guard?
FRANCISCO. Not a mouse stirring.
BARNARDO. Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The
rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
 Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
FRANCISCO. I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there?
HORATIO. Friends to this ground.
MARCELLUS. And liegemen to the Dane.
FRANCISCO. Give you good night.
MARCELLUS. O, farewell, honest soldier, who hath reliev
do has my place. Give you good-night.
MARCELLUS. Holla, Barnardo!
BARNARDO. Say, what, is Horatio there?
HORATIO. A piece of him.
BARNARDO. Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus.
MARCELLUS. What, has this thing appear
BARNARDO. I have seen nothing.
MARCELLUS. Horatio says
tis but our fantasy, And will not let belief
take hold of him Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.
Therefore I have entreated him along With us to watch the minutes of
night, That if again this apparition come He may approve our eyes
HORATIO. Tush, tush,
BARNARDO. Sit down awhile, And let us once again assail your ears, That
are so fortified against our story, What we two nights have seen.
HORATIO. Well, sit we down, And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
BARNARDO. Last night of all, When yond same star that
the pole, Had made his course t
illume that part of heaven Where now it
burns, Marcellus and myselfM
, The bell then beating one
MARCELLUS. Peace, break thee off. Look where it comes again.
BARNARDO. In the same figure, like the King that
MARCELLUS. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
BARNARDO. Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
HORATIO. Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
BARNARDO It would be spoke to.
MARCELLUS. Question it, Horatio.
HORATIO. What art thou that usurp
st this time of night, Together with
that fair and warlike forM
m In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did
sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee speak.
MARCELLUS. It is offended.
BARNARDO. See, it stalks away.
HORATIO. Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
Tis gone, and will not answer.
BARNARDO. How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale. Is not this
something more than fantasy? What think you on
HORATIO. Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible
and true avouch Of mine own eyes.
US. Is it not like the King?
HORATIO. As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on
ambitious Norway combated; So frown
d he once, when in an
angry parle He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
MARCELLUS. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, With martial
stalk hath he gone by our watch.
HORATIO. In what particular thought to work I know not; But in the
gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our
 now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this
same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subject of
the land, And why such daily cast of brazen cannon And foreign mart for
implements of war; Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Does not divide the Sunday from the week. What might be toward, that
this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: Who
t that can inform me?
HORATIO. That can I; At least, the whisper goes so. Our last King,
d to us, Was, as you know, by
Fortinbras of Norway, Thereto prick
d on by a most emulate pride, Dar
to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet, For so this side of our
d him, Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal
compact, Well ratified by law and heraldry, Did forfeit, with his life,
all those his lands Which he stood seiz
d of, to the conqueror; Against
the which, a moiety competent Was gaged by our King; which had return
To the inheritance of FortiM
nbras, Had he been vanquisher; as by the
nant And carriage of the article design
d, His fell to Hamlet.
Now, sir, young Fortinbras, Of unimproved mettle, hot and full, Hath in
the skirts of Norway, here and there, Shark
d up a list of lawless
resolutes, For food and diet, to some enterprise That hath a stomach
t; which is no other, As it doth well appear unto our state, But to
recover of us by strong hand And terms compulsatory, those foresaid
lands So by his father lost. And this, I takeM
 it, Is the main motive of
our preparations, The source of this our watch, and the chief head Of
this post-haste and rummage in the land.
BARNARDO. I think it be no other but e
en so: Well may it sort that
this portentous figure Comes armed through our watch so like the King
That was and is the question of these wars.
HORATIO. A mote it is to trouble the mind
s eye. In the most high and
palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves
stood tenantless and the sheeted dead Did M
squeak and gibber in the
Roman streets; As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star, Upon whose influence
s empire stands, Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. And
even the like precurse of fierce events, As harbingers preceding still
the fates And prologue to the omen coming on, Have heaven and earth
together demonstrated Unto our climatures and countrymen.
But, soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again! I
ll cross it, though iM
blast me. Stay, illusion! If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me. If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do
ease, and grace to me, Speak to me. If thou art privy to thy country
fate, Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O speak! Or if thou hast
uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, For
which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, Speak of it. Stay, and
 [_The cock crows._]
MARCELLUS. Shall I strike at it witM
HORATIO. Do, if it will not stand.
Tis gone! We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it
the show of violence, For it is as the air, invulnerable, And our vain
blows malicious mockery.
BARNARDO. It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
HORATIO. And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful
summons. I have heard The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth
with his lofty and shrill-M
sounding throat Awake the god of day; and at
his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, Th
and erring spirit hies To his confine. And of the truth herein This
present object made probation.
MARCELLUS. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever
gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour
s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no
spirit dare stir abroad, The nights are wholesome, then no planets
strike, No fairy takeM
s, nor witch hath power to charm; So hallow
so gracious is the time.
HORATIO. So have I heard, and do in part believe it. But look, the morn
in russet mantle clad, Walks o
er the dew of yon high eastward hill.
Break we our watch up, and by my advice, Let us impart what we have
seen tonight Unto young Hamlet; for upon my life, This spirit, dumb to
us, will speak to him. Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As
needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
d I this morning know Where we shall
find him most conveniently.
SCENE II. Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.
 Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius,
 Laertes, Voltemand, Cornelius, Lords and Attendant.
KING. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother
s death The memory be
green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our
whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe; Yet so far hath
discretion fought with nature That we with wiseM
st sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister,
imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as
twere with a defeated joy, With one auspicious and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale
weighing delight and dole, Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along. For
all, our thanks. Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras, HoM
weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother
death Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, Colleagued with this
dream of his advantage, He hath not fail
d to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all
bonds of law, To our most valiant brother. So much for him. Now for
ourself and for this time of meeting: Thus much the business is: we
have here writ To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras, Who, impotent and
hears Of this his nephew
s purpose, to suppress His
further gait herein; in that the levies, The lists, and full
proportions are all made Out of his subject: and we here dispatch You,
good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand, For bearers of this greeting to old
Norway, Giving to you no further personal power To business with the
King, more than the scope Of these dilated articles allow. Farewell;
and let your haste commend your duty.
CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND. In that, and all things, will we show our
KING. We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.
 [_Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius._]
And now, Laertes, what
s the news with you? You told us of some suit.
t, Laertes? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And lose
your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes, That shall not be my offer,
not thy asking? The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more
instrumental to the mouth, Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
LAERTES. Dread my lord, Your leM
ave and favour to return to France, From
whence though willingly I came to Denmark To show my duty in your
coronation; Yet now I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and
wishes bend again toward France, And bow them to your gracious leave
KING. Have you your father
s leave? What says Polonius?
POLONIUS. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome
petition; and at last Upon his will I seal
d my hard consent. I do
beseech you give him leave to go.
r hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best graces
spend it at thy will! But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son
HAMLET. [_Aside._] A little more than kin, and less than kind.
KING. How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
HAMLET. Not so, my lord, I am too much i
QUEEN. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look
like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for
thy noble father in the dust. Thou know
tis common, all that lives
t die, Passing through nature to eternity.
HAMLET. Ay, madam, it is common.
QUEEN. If it be, Why seems it so particular with thee?
HAMLET. Seems, madam! Nay, it is; I know not seems.
inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy
d breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods,
shows of grief, That can denote me truly. These indeed seem, For they
 man might play; But I have that within which passeth
show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these
mourning duties to your father; But you must know, your father lost a
father, That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound In filial
obligation, for some term To do obsequious sorrow. But to persevere In
obstinate condolement is a course Of impious stubbornness.
grief, It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,M
 A heart unfortified, a
mind impatient, An understanding simple and unschool
know must be, and is as common As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we in our peevish opposition Take it to heart? Fie,
fault to heaven, A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, To reason
most absurd, whose common theme Is death of fathers, and who still hath
cried, From the first corse till he that died today,
We pray you throw to earth This unprevailing woe, and thiM
a father; for let the world take note You are the most immediate to our
throne, And with no less nobility of love Than that which dearest
father bears his son Do I impart toward you. For your intent In going
back to school in Wittenberg, It is most retrograde to our desire: And
we beseech you bend you to remain Here in the cheer and comfort of our
eye, Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
QUEEN. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet. I pray thee stay
with us; go not to WittenbeM
HAMLET. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
tis a loving and a fair reply. Be as ourself in Denmark.
Madam, come; This gentle and unforc
d accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to
my heart; in grace whereof, No jocund health that Denmark drinks today
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, And the King
heaven shall bruit again, Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
 [_Exeunt all but Hamlet._]
HAMLET. O that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolveM
itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix
gainst self-slaughter. O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and
unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on
tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed; things rank and gross in
nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months
nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem
the winds of heavenM
 Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must
I remember? Why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had
grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month
Frailty, thy name is woman! A little month, or ere those shoes
were old With which she followed my poor father
s body Like Niobe, all
 O God! A beast that wants discourse of reason
married with mine uncle, My father
brother; but no more like my faM
ther Than I to Hercules. Within a month?
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her
galled eyes, She married. O most wicked speed, to post With such
dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
 Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo.
HORATIO. Hail to your lordship!
HAMLET. I am glad to see you well: Horatio, or I do forget myself.
HORATIO. The same, my lord, And your poor servant ever.
r, my good friend; I
ll change that name with you: And what
make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
MARCELLUS. My good lord.
HAMLET. I am very glad to see you.
 But what, in faith,
make you from Wittenberg?
HORATIO. A truant disposition, good my lord.
HAMLET. I would not hear your enemy say so; Nor shall you do my ear
that violence, To make it truster of your own report Against yourself.
I know you are no truant. But what is your affair in Elsinore? We
to drink deep ere you depart.
HORATIO. My lord, I came to see your father
HAMLET. I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student. I think it was to see
HORATIO. Indeed, my lord, it follow
HAMLET. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak
furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in
heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio. My father,
HORATIO. Where, my lord?
HORATIO. I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
HAMLET. He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon
HORATIO. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
HORATIO. My lord, the King your father.
HAMLET. The King my father!
HORATIO. Season your admiration for a while With an attent ear, till I
may deliver Upon the witness of these gentlemen This marvel to you.
HORATIO. Two nights togetheM
r had these gentlemen, Marcellus and
Barnardo, on their watch In the dead waste and middle of the night,
d. A figure like your father, Armed at point
-pie, Appears before them, and with solemn march Goes
slow and stately by them: thrice he walk
fear-surprised eyes, Within his truncheon
s length; whilst they,
d Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb, and speak
not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did, AndM
them the third night kept the watch, Where, as they had deliver
in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The
apparition comes. I knew your father; These hands are not more like.
HAMLET. But where was this?
MARCELLUS. My lord, upon the platform where we watch.
HAMLET. Did you not speak to it?
HORATIO. My lord, I did; But answer made it none: yet once methought It
lifted up it head, and did address Itself to motion, like as it would
speak. But even then the morning M
cock crew loud, And at the sound it
shrunk in haste away, And vanish
HORATIO. As I do live, my honour
tis true; And we did think it
writ down in our duty To let you know of it.
HAMLET. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch
Mar. and BARNARDO. We do, my lord.
HAMLET. From top to toe?
BOTH. My lord, from head to foot.
HAMLET. Then saw you not hiM
HORATIO. O yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.
HORATIO. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
HAMLET. Pale, or red?
HORATIO. Nay, very pale.
d his eyes upon you?
HORATIO. Most constantly.
HAMLET. I would I had been there.
HORATIO. It would have much amaz
HAMLET. Very like, very like. Stay
HORATIO. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
MARCELLUS and BARNARDO. Longer, longer.
HORATIO. Not when I saw
HAMLET. His beard was grizzled, no?
HORATIO. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver
HAMLET. I will watch tonight; Perchance
HORATIO. I warrant you it will.
HAMLET. If it assume my noble father
ll speak to it, though
hell itself should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If
you have hitherto conceal
d this sight, Let it be tenable in your
silence still; And whatsoever else shall hap tonight, Give iM
understanding, but no tongue. I will requite your loves. So, fare ye
well. Upon the platform
twixt eleven and twelve, I
ALL. Our duty to your honour.
HAMLET. Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.
 [_Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo._]
s spirit in arms! All is not well; I doubt some foul play:
would the night were come! Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds
will rise, Though all the earth o
erwhelm them, to men
 Enter Laertes and Ophelia.
LAERTES. My necessaries are embark
d. Farewell. And, sister, as the
winds give benefit And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me
OPHELIA. Do you doubt that?
LAERTES. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Hold it a fashion
and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not
permanent, sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute;
OPHELIA. No more but so?
 it no more. For nature crescent does not grow alone In
thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes, The inward service of the
mind and soul Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, And now no
soil nor cautel doth besmirch The virtue of his will; but you must
fear, His greatness weigh
d, his will is not his own; For he himself is
subject to his birth: He may not, as unvalu
d persons do, Carve for
himself; for on his choice depends The sanctity and health of this
whole state; And therefore must his choicM
voice and yielding of that body Whereof he is the head. Then if he says
he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it As he in his
particular act and place May give his saying deed; which is no further
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your
honour may sustain If with too credent ear you list his songs, Or lose
your heart, or your chaste treasure open To his unmaster
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; And keep you iM
your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid
is prodigal enough If she unmask her beauty to the moon. Virtue itself
scopes not calumnious strokes: The canker galls the infants of the
spring Too oft before their buttons be disclos
d, And in the morn and
liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary
then, best safety lies in fear. Youth to itself rebels, though none
effect of this good lesson keep As watchman M
heart. But good my brother, Do not as some ungracious pastors do, Show
me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Whilst like a puff
reckless libertine Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And
recks not his own rede.
LAERTES. O, fear me not. I stay too long. But here my father comes.
A double blessing is a double grace; Occasion smiles upon a second
POLONIUS. Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame. The wind sits
in the shoulder of your sail, And yoM
 [_Laying his hand on Laertes
And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy
thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion
d thought his act. Be thou
familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their
adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel; But do
not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch
comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, Bear
opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy
voice: Take each man
s censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy
habit as thy purse can buy, But not express
d in fancy; rich, not
gaudy: For the apparel oft proclaims the man; And they in France of the
best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and
friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to
e true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou
canst not then be false to any man. Farewell: my blessing season this
LAERTES. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
POLONIUS. The time invites you; go, your servants tend.
LAERTES. Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well What I have said to you.
Tis in my memory lock
d, And you yourself shall keep the key
t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
e you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
POLONIUS. Marry, well bethought:
Tis told me he hath very oft of late
Given private time to you; and you yourself Have of your audience been
most free and bounteous. If it be so,
tis put on me, And that in
I must tell you You do not understand yourself so
clearly As it behoves my daughter and your honour. What is between you?
Give me up the truth.
OPHELIA. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection
ONIUS. Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl, Unsifted in
such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call
OPHELIA. I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
ll teach you; think yourself a baby; That you have
en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender
yourself more dearly; Or,
not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
ll tender me a fool.
OPHELIA. My lord, he hath importun
d me with love In honM
POLONIUS. Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.
OPHELIA. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost
all the holy vows of heaven.
POLONIUS. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood
burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows: these blazes,
daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, Even in their
promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire. From this time
Be something scanter of your maiden presence; Set your entM
a higher rate Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so
much in him that he is young; And with a larger tether may he walk Than
may be given you. In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they
are brokers, Not of that dye which their investments show, But mere
implorators of unholy suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
The better to beguile. This is for all. I would not, in plain terms,
from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give
alk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to
t, I charge you; come your
OPHELIA. I shall obey, my lord.
SCENE IV. The platform.
 Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus.
HAMLET. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
HORATIO. It is a nipping and an eager air.
HAMLET. What hour now?
HORATIO. I think it lacks of twelve.
MARCELLUS. No, it is struck.
HORATIO. Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the season Wherein
the spirit held his wont to walk.
 [_A flourish of trumpeM
ts, and ordnance shot off within._]
What does this mean, my lord?
HAMLET. The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail,
and the swaggering upspring reels; And as he drains his draughts of
Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of
HORATIO. Is it a custom?
t; And to my mind, though I am native here, And to
the manner born, it is a custom More honour
d in the breach than the
observance. This heavy-headed revel east and wM
d of other nations: They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish
phrase Soil our addition; and indeed it takes From our achievements,
d at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. So
oft it chances in particular men That for some vicious mole of nature
in them, As in their birth, wherein they are not guilty, Since nature
cannot choose his origin, By their o
ergrowth of some complexion, Oft
breaking down the pales and forts of reason; Or by some habit, thM
erleavens The form of plausive manners;
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, Being Nature
be they as pure as grace, As
infinite as man may undergo, Shall in the general censure take
corruption From that particular fault. The dram of evil Doth all the
noble substance often doubt To his own scandal.
HORATIO. Look, my lord, it comes!
HAMLET. Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spiriM
health or goblin damn
d, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts
from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com
questionable shape That I will speak to thee. I
ll call thee Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me! Let me not burst in ignorance;
but tell Why thy canoniz
d bones, hearsed in death, Have burst their
cerements; why the sepulchre, Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn
d his ponderous and marble jaws To cast thee up again! What may this
, That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, Revisit
the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous, and we fools of nature
So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches
of our souls? Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
 [_Ghost beckons Hamlet._]
HORATIO. It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment
did desire To you alone.
MARCELLUS. Look with what courteous action It waves you to a more
removed ground. But do not go with it.
HAMLET. It will not speak; then will I follow it.
HORATIO. Do not, my lord.
HAMLET. Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin
fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as
itself? It waves me forth again. I
HORATIO. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the
dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o
er his base into the sea,
And there assume some other horrible form Which might deprive your
ignty of reason, And draw you into madness? Think of it. The very
place puts toys of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fadoms to the sea And hears it roar beneath.
HAMLET. It waves me still. Go on, I
MARCELLUS. You shall not go, my lord.
HAMLET. Hold off your hands.
d; you shall not go.
HAMLET. My fate cries out, And makes each petty artery in this body As
hardy as the Nemean lion
d. Unhand me, gentlemen.
 [_Breaking free from them._]
ll make a ghost of him that lets me. I say, away!
 [_Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet._]
HORATIO. He waxes desperate with imagination.
tis not fit thus to obey him.
HORATIO. Have after. To what issue will this come?
MARCELLUS. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
HORATIO. Heaven will direct it.
E V. A more remote part of the Castle.
 Enter Ghost and Hamlet.
HAMLET. Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak, I
GHOST. My hour is almost come, When I to sulph
flames Must render up myself.
HAMLET. Alas, poor ghost!
GHOST. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall
HAMLET. Speak, I am bound to hear.
GHOST. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
GHOST. I am thy father
d for a certain term to walk the
night, And for the day confin
d to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes
done in my days of nature Are burnt and purg
d away. But that I am
forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold
whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and
combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like
quills upon the fretful porcupine. But thM
is eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! If thou didst ever thy
GHOST. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
GHOST. Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul,
strange, and unnatural.
HAMLET. Haste me to know
t, that I, with wings as swift As meditation
or the thoughts of love May sweep to my revenge.
GHOST. I find thee apt; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
tself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this.
Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, A
serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of
my death Rankly abus
d; but know, thou noble youth, The serpent that
did sting thy father
s life Now wears his crown.
HAMLET. O my prophetic soul! Mine uncle!
GHOST. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of
his wit, with traitorous gifts,
 O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the
won to his shameful lust The will of my most
seeming-virtuous queen. O Hamlet, what a falling off was there, From
me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with
the vow I made to her in marriage; and to decline Upon a wretch whose
natural gifts were poor To those of mine. But virtue, as it never will
d, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven; So lust,
though to a radiant angel link
d, Will sate itself in a celestial bed
And prey on garbage. But M
soft! methinks I scent the morning air; Brief
let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, My custom always of the
afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole With juice of cursed
hebenon in a vial, And in the porches of my ears did pour The leperous
distilment, whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That
swift as quicksilver it courses through The natural gates and alleys of
the body; And with a sudden vigour it doth posset And curd, like eager
droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood. SoM
a most instant tetter bark
d about, Most lazar-like, with vile and
loathsome crust All my smooth body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a
s hand, Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatch
even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhous
led, disappointed, unanel
reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my
head. O horrible! O horrible! most horrible! If thou hast nature in
thee, bear it not; Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for
y and damned incest. But howsoever thou pursu
not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught; leave
her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick
and sting her. Fare thee well at once! The glow-worm shows the matin to
gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Adieu, adieu, adieu.
Hamlet, remember me.
HAMLET. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? And shall I
couple hell? O, fie! Hold, my heart; And you, my sinews, gM
instant old, But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee? Ay, thou poor
ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember
thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I
ll wipe away all trivial fond
records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth
and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix
d with baser matter. Yes,
by heaven! O most pernicious woman! O villain, villain, smiling damned
 tables. Meet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and
smile, and be a villain! At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; It is
Adieu, adieu, remember
HORATIO and MARCELLUS. [_Within._] My lord, my lord.
MARCELLUS. [_Within._] Lord Hamlet.
HORATIO. [_Within._] Heaven secure him.
MARCELLUS. [_Within._] Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
HAMLET. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come.
HORATIO. What news, my lord?
HAMLET. O, wonderful!
HORATIO. Good my lord, tell it.
HORATIO. Not I, my lord, by heaven.
MARCELLUS. Nor I, my lord.
HAMLET. How say you then, would heart of man once think it?
HORATIO and MARCELLUS. Ay, by heaven, my lord.
er a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he
HORATIO. There needs no ghosM
t, my lord, come from the grave To tell us
HAMLET. Why, right; you are i
 the right; And so, without more
circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: You,
as your business and desires shall point you,
business and desire, Such as it is;
and for my own poor part, Look you,
HORATIO. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
m sorry they offend you, heartily; Yes faith, heartily.
s no offence, my loM
HAMLET. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, And much offence
too. Touching this vision here, It is an honest ghost, that let me tell
you. For your desire to know what is between us, O
may. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
t, my lord? We will.
HAMLET. Never make known what you have seen tonight.
HORATIO and MARCELLUS. My lord, we will not.
HAMLET. Nay, but swear
ith, my lord, not I.
MARCELLUS. Nor I, my lord, in faith.
HAMLET. Upon my sword.
MARCELLUS. We have sworn, my lord, already.
HAMLET. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
GHOST. [_Cries under the stage._] Swear.
HAMLET. Ha, ha boy, say
st thou so? Art thou there, truepenny? Come on,
you hear this fellow in the cellarage. Consent to swear.
HORATIO. Propose the oath, my lord.
HAMLET. Never to speak of this that you have seen. Swear by my sword.
GHOST. [_Beneath._] Swear.
HAMLET. _Hic et ubiqM
ll shift our ground. Come hither,
gentlemen, And lay your hands again upon my sword. Never to speak of
this that you have heard. Swear by my sword.
GHOST. [_Beneath._] Swear.
HAMLET. Well said, old mole! Canst work i
earth so fast? A worthy
pioner! Once more remove, good friends.
HORATIO. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange.
HAMLET. And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more
things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your
 But come, Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, How
 As I perchance hereafter shall
think meet To put an antic disposition on
 That you, at such times
seeing me, never shall, With arms encumber
d thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, As
could and if we would
, Or such ambiguous giving out, to note That you know aught
 not to do. So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
GHOST. [_Beneath._] Swear.
HAMLET. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit. So, gentlemen, With all my love I
do commend me to you; And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do
express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack.
Let us go in together, And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. The
time is out of joint. O cursed spite, That ever I was born to set it
right. Nay, come, let
SCENE I. A room in Polonius
 Enter Polonius and Reynaldo.
POLONIUS. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.
REYNALDO. I will, my lord.
POLONIUS. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, Before you
visit him, to make inquiry Of his behaviour.
REYNALDO. My lord, I did intend it.
POLONIUS. Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir, Enquire me
first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and
where they keep, What company, at what expense; and M
encompassment and drift of question, That they do know my son, come you
more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it. Take you as
twere some distant knowledge of him, As thus,
I know his father and
his friends, And in part him
do you mark this, Reynaldo?
REYNALDO. Ay, very well, my lord.
And in part him, but,
s very wild; Addicted so and so;
 and there put on him
What forgeries you please; marrM
y, none so rank As may dishonour him;
take heed of that; But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips As are
companions noted and most known To youth and liberty.
REYNALDO. As gaming, my lord?
POLONIUS. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, Quarrelling, drabbing.
REYNALDO. My lord, that would dishonour him.
POLONIUS. Faith no, as you may season it in the charge. You must not
put another scandal on him, That he is open to incontinency; That
my meaning: but breathe his faultsM
 so quaintly That they may seem the
taints of liberty; The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, A savageness
in unreclaimed blood, Of general assault.
REYNALDO. But my good lord
POLONIUS. Wherefore should you do this?
REYNALDO. Ay, my lord, I would know that.
POLONIUS. Marry, sir, here
s my drift, And I believe it is a fetch of
warrant. You laying these slight sullies on my son, As
 working, Mark you, Your party in converse, him you
ng ever seen in the prenominate crimes The youth you
breathe of guilty, be assur
d He closes with you in this consequence;
 According to the phrase
or the addition Of man and country.
REYNALDO. Very good, my lord.
POLONIUS. And then, sir, does he this,
say? By the mass, I was about to say something. Where did I leave?
closes in the consequence.
closes in the consequence
 ay, marry! He closes with you
I know the gentleman, I saw him yesterday, or t
then, or then, with such and such; and, as you say, There was he
s rouse, There falling out at tennis
I saw him enter such a house of sale
brothel, or so forth. See you now; Your bait of falsehood takes this
carp of truth; And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses,
says of bias, By indirections find directions out. So by my
former lecture and advice Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?
REYNALDO. My lord, I have.
 you, fare you well.
REYNALDO. Good my lord.
POLONIUS. Observe his inclination in yourself.
REYNALDO. I shall, my lord.
POLONIUS. And let him ply his music.
REYNALDO. Well, my lord.
How now, Ophelia, what
OPHELIA. Alas, my lord, M
I have been so affrighted.
POLONIUS. With what, in the name of God?
OPHELIA. My lord, as I was sewing in my chamber, Lord Hamlet, with his
d, No hat upon his head, his stockings foul
red, and down-gyved to his ankle, Pale as his shirt, his knees
knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had
been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
POLONIUS. Mad for thy love?
OPHELIA. My lord, I do not know, but truly I do fear it.
POLONIUS. What said he?
OPHELIA. He took me by the wrist and held me hard; Then goes he to the
length of all his arm; And with his other hand thus o
falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it. Long stay
a little shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus
waving up and down, He rais
d a sigh so piteous and profound As it did
seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being. That done, he lets me
go, And with his head over his shoulder turn
way without his eyes, For out o
 doors he went without their help, And
to the last bended their light on me.
POLONIUS. Come, go with me. I will go seek the King. This is the very
ecstasy of love, Whose violent property fordoes itself, And leads the
will to desperate undertakings, As oft as any passion under heaven That
does afflict our natures. I am sorry,
 What, have you given him any
OPHELIA. No, my good lord; but as you did command, I did repel his
denied His access to me.
POLONIUS. That hath made him mad. I am sorry that with better heed and
judgment I had not quoted him. I fear
d he did but trifle, And meant to
wreck thee. But beshrew my jealousy! It seems it is as proper to our
age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions As it is common for the
younger sort To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King. This must be
known, which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate
SCENE II. A room in the CaM
 Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Attendants.
KING. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Moreover that we much
did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty
sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet
s transformation; so I call
exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was.
What it should be, More than his father
s death, that thus hath put him
understanding of himself, I cannot dream of. I entreat
th That, being of so young days brought up with him, And since so
d to his youth and humour, That you vouchsafe your rest here
in our court Some little time, so by your companies To draw him on to
pleasures and to gather, So much as from occasion you may glean,
Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus That, open
QUEEN. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk
d of you, And sure I am, two
men there are not living To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
w us so much gentry and good will As to expend your time with us
awhile, For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall
receive such thanks As fits a king
ROSENCRANTZ. Both your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have
of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.
GUILDENSTERN. We both obey, And here give up ourselves, in the full
bent, To lay our service freely at your feet To be commanded.
KING. Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
QUEEN. Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz. And I beseech you
instantly to visit My too much changed son. Go, some of you, And bring
these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
GUILDENSTERN. Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and some Attendants._]
ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully
KING. Thou still hast been the father of good news.
S. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege, I hold my duty,
as I hold my soul, Both to my God and to my gracious King: And I do
or else this brain of mine Hunts not the trail of policy so sure
that I have found The very cause of Hamlet
KING. O speak of that, that do I long to hear.
POLONIUS. Give first admittance to th
ambassadors; My news shall be the
fruit to that great feast.
KING. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.
He tells me, my sweet queen, that he hath found The head and source of
QUEEN. I doubt it is no other but the main, His father
KING. Well, we shall sift him.
 Enter Polonius with Voltemand and Cornelius.
Welcome, my good friends! Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?
VOLTEMAND. Most fair return of greetings and desires. Upon our first,
he sent out to suppress His nephew
s levies, which to him appear
gainst the Polack; But better look
found It was against your Highness; whereat griev
sickness, age, and impotence Was falsely borne in hand, sends out
arrests On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys, Receives rebuke from
Norway; and in fine, Makes vow before his uncle never more To give
assay of arms against your Majesty. Whereon old Norway, overcome
with joy, Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, And his
commission to employ those soldiers So levM
ied as before, against the
Polack: With an entreaty, herein further shown, [_Gives a paper._] That
it might please you to give quiet pass Through your dominions for this
enterprise, On such regards of safety and allowance As therein are set
KING. It likes us well; And at our more consider
Answer, and think upon this business. Meantime we thank you for your
well-took labour. Go to your rest, at night we
ll feast together:. Most
 [_Exeunt Voltemand and CorneliM
POLONIUS. This business is well ended. My liege and madam, to
expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night
night, and time is time. Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs
and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. Mad
call I it; for to define true madness, What is
t but to be nothing else
but mad? But let that go.
QUEEN. More matter, with less art.
POLONIUS. Madam, I M
swear I use no art at all. That he is mad,
tis true. A foolish figure,
But farewell it, for I will use no art. Mad let us grant him then. And
now remains That we find out the cause of this effect, Or rather say,
the cause of this defect, For this effect defective comes by cause.
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend, I have a
have whilst she is mine
 Who in her duty and obedience, mark,
Hath given me this. Now gather, and surmisM
e. [_Reads._] _To the
celestial, and my soul
s idol, the most beautified Ophelia_
ill phrase, a vile phrase;
 is a vile phrase: but you shall
hear. [_Reads._] _these; in her excellent white bosom, these, &c._
QUEEN. Came this from Hamlet to her?
POLONIUS. Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. [_Reads._]
_Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt
truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love. O dear Ophelia, I am ill at
these numbers. I have nM
ot art to reckon my groans. But that I love thee
best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore, most dear lady,
whilst this machine is to him, HAMLET._ This in obedience hath my
d me; And more above, hath his solicitings, As they fell
out by time, by means, and place, All given to mine ear.
KING. But how hath she receiv
POLONIUS. What do you think of me?
KING. As of a man faithful and honourable.
POLONIUS. I would fain prove so. But what might you think, When I hM
seen this hot love on the wing, As I perceiv
d it, I must tell you
that, Before my daughter told me, what might you, Or my dear Majesty
your queen here, think, If I had play
d the desk or table-book, Or
given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, Or look
d upon this love with
idle sight, What might you think? No, I went round to work, And my
young mistress thus I did bespeak:
Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy
star. This must not be.
 And then I precepts gave her, That she should
om his resort, Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice, And he, repulsed,
 Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, Thence to a watch,
thence into a weakness, Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves, And all we wail for.
QUEEN. It may be, very likely.
POLONIUS. Hath there been such a time, I
d fain know that, That I have
KING. Not that I know.
POLONIUS. Take this from this, if this be otherwise. [_Points to his
head and shoulder._] If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth
is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.
KING. How may we try it further?
POLONIUS. You know sometimes he walks four hours together Here in the
QUEEN. So he does indeed.
POLONIUS. At such a time I
ll loose my daughter to him. Be you and I
behind an arras then, Mark the encounter. If he lM
not from his reason fall
n thereon, Let me be no assistant for a state,
But keep a farm and carters.
KING. We will try it.
 Enter Hamlet, reading.
QUEEN. But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
POLONIUS. Away, I do beseech you, both away I
ll board him presently.
 [_Exeunt King, Queen and Attendants._]
How does my good Lord Hamlet?
HAMLET. Well, God-a-mercy.
POLONIUS. Do you know me, my lord?
HAMLET. Excellent well. You
POLONIUS. Not I, my lord.
HAMLET. Then I would you were so honest a man.
POLONIUS. Honest, my lord?
HAMLET. Ay sir, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man
picked out of ten thousand.
s very true, my lord.
HAMLET. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good
 Have you a daughter?
POLONIUS. I have, my lord.
HAMLET. Let her not walk i
 sun. Conception is a blessing, but not
as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look M
POLONIUS. How say you by that? [_Aside._] Still harping on my daughter.
Yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger. He is far
gone, far gone. And truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for
love; very near this. I
ll speak to him again.
What do you read, my
HAMLET. Words, words, words.
POLONIUS. What is the matter, my lord?
HAMLET. Between who?
POLONIUS. I mean the matter that you read, my lord.
HAMLET. Slanders, sir. For the satirical slave says here that olM
have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging
thick amber and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of
wit, together with most weak hams. All which, sir, though I most
powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it
thus set down. For you yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a
crab you could go backward.
POLONIUS. [_Aside._] Though this be madness, yet there is a method
 Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
POLONIUS. Indeed, that is out o
 the air. [_Aside._] How pregnant
sometimes his replies are! A happiness that often madness hits on,
which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I
will leave him and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him
and my daughter. My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave
HAMLET. You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more
willingly part withal, except my life, except my life, except my life.
S. Fare you well, my lord.
HAMLET. These tedious old fools.
 Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
POLONIUS. You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.
ROSENCRANTZ. [_To Polonius._] God save you, sir.
GUILDENSTERN. My honoured lord!
ROSENCRANTZ. My most dear lord!
HAMLET. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah,
Rosencrantz. Good lads, how do ye both?
ROSENCRANTZ. As the indifferent children of the earth.
GUILDENSTERN. Happy in that we are not ovM
er-happy; On Fortune
are not the very button.
HAMLET. Nor the soles of her shoe?
ROSENCRANTZ. Neither, my lord.
HAMLET. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours?
GUILDENSTERN. Faith, her privates we.
HAMLET. In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true; she is a
ROSENCRANTZ. None, my lord, but that the world
HAMLET. Then is doomsday near. But your news is not true. Let me
question more in particular. What have yoM
u, my good friends, deserved
at the hands of Fortune, that she sends you to prison hither?
GUILDENSTERN. Prison, my lord?
ROSENCRANTZ. Then is the world one.
HAMLET. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and
dungeons, Denmark being one o
ROSENCRANTZ. We think not so, my lord.
tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or
bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ. Why, then your amM
bition makes it one;
HAMLET. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a
king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
GUILDENSTERN. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very
substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
HAMLET. A dream itself is but a shadow.
ROSENCRANTZ. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality
that it is but a shadow
HAMLET. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monaM
 shadows. Shall we to th
 court? For, by my fay, I
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. We
HAMLET. No such matter. I will not sort you with the rest of my
servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully
attended. But, in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at
ROSENCRANTZ. To visit you, my lord, no other occasion.
HAMLET. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you.
nd sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were you
not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,
deal justly with me. Come, come; nay, speak.
GUILDENSTERN. What should we say, my lord?
HAMLET. Why, anything. But to the purpose. You were sent for; and there
is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not
craft enough to colour. I know the good King and Queen have sent for
ROSENCRANTZ. To what end, my lord?
HAMLET. That you must teacM
h me. But let me conjure you, by the rights
of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of
our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could
charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent
ROSENCRANTZ. [_To Guildenstern._] What say you?
HAMLET. [_Aside._] Nay, then I have an eye of you. If you love me, hold
GUILDENSTERN. My lord, we were sent for.
HAMLET. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent yourM
discovery, and your secrecy to the King and Queen moult no feather. I
have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition
that this goodly frame the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory;
this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o
firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it
appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of
vapours. What a piece M
of work is man! How noble in reason? How infinite
in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable? In action
how like an angel? In apprehension, how like a god? The beauty of the
world, the paragon of animals. And yet, to me, what is this
quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither,
though by your smiling you seem to say so.
ROSENCRANTZ. My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
HAMLET. Why did you laugh then, when I said
To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what Lenten
entertainment the players shall receive from you. We coted them on the
way, and hither are they coming to offer you service.
HAMLET. He that plays the king shall be welcome,
his Majesty shall have
tribute of me; the adventurous knight shall use his foil and target;
the lover shall not sigh gratis, the humorous man shall end his part in
peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickle a
sere; and the lady shall say her mind fM
reely, or the blank verse shall
t. What players are they?
ROSENCRANTZ. Even those you were wont to take such delight in
tragedians of the city.
HAMLET. How chances it they travel? Their residence, both in reputation
and profit, was better both ways.
ROSENCRANTZ. I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late
HAMLET. Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the
city? Are they so followed?
ROSENCRANTZ. No, indeed, they are not.
mes it? Do they grow rusty?
ROSENCRANTZ. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace; but there
is, sir, an ayry of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of
question, and are most tyrannically clapped for
t. These are now the
fashion, and so berattle the common stages
wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills and dare scarce come
HAMLET. What, are they children? Who maintains
escoted? Will they pursue the quality no longer thanM
Will they not say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common
as it is most like, if their means are no better
do them wrong to make them exclaim against their own succession?
ROSENCRANTZ. Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and the
nation holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy. There was for a
while, no money bid for argument unless the poet and the player went to
cuffs in the question.
GUILDENSTERN. O, theM
re has been much throwing about of brains.
HAMLET. Do the boys carry it away?
ROSENCRANTZ. Ay, that they do, my lord. Hercules and his load too.
HAMLET. It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and
those that would make mouths at him while my father lived, give twenty,
forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little.
Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy
 [_Flourish of trumpets within._]
GUILDENSTERN. There are thM
HAMLET. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come. The
appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply with you
in this garb, lest my extent to the players, which I tell you must show
fairly outward, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You
are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
GUILDENSTERN. In what, my dear lord?
HAMLET. I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I
know a hawk from a handsaw.
POLONIUS. Well be with you, gentlemen.
HAMLET. Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too, at each ear a hearer. That
great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling clouts.
ROSENCRANTZ. Happily he
s the second time come to them; for they say an
old man is twice a child.
HAMLET. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark
You say right, sir: for a Monday morning
POLONIUS. My lord, I have news to tell you.
HAMLET. My lord, I have news to tell you. M
When Roscius was an actor in
POLONIUS. The actors are come hither, my lord.
POLONIUS. Upon my honour.
HAMLET. Then came each actor on his ass
POLONIUS. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy,
history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral,
tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene
individable, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus
too light, for the law of writ and the liberty. These are the onM
HAMLET. O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!
POLONIUS. What treasure had he, my lord?
One fair daughter, and no more, The which he loved
POLONIUS. [_Aside._] Still on my daughter.
 right, old Jephthah?
POLONIUS. If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I
HAMLET. Nay, that follows not.
POLONIUS. What follows then, my lord?
HAMLET. Why, As by lot, God wot, and then,M
 you know, It came to pass,
as most like it was. The first row of the pious chanson will show you
more. For look where my abridgement comes.
 Enter four or five Players.
You are welcome, masters, welcome all. I am glad to see thee well.
Welcome, good friends. O, my old friend! Thy face is valanc
st thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young lady
r lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I
saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine. Pray God M
piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring. Masters, you
t like French falconers, fly at anything
ll have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your
quality. Come, a passionate speech.
FIRST PLAYER. What speech, my lord?
HAMLET. I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted, or
if it was, not above once, for the play, I remember, pleased not the
twas caviare to the general. But it was
others, whose judgments in such matters cried in the top of mine
excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much
modesty as cunning. I remember one said there were no sallets in the
lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that
might indite the author of affectation, but called it an honest method,
as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One
speech in it, I chiefly loved.
 it especially where he speaks of Priam
live in your memory, begin at this line, let me see, let me see: _The
rugged Pyrrhus, like th
_ It is not so: it begins
 _The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, Black as his
purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couched in the ominous
horse, Hath now this dread and black complexion smear
more dismal. Head to foot Now is he total gules, horridly trick
blood of fathers, mothers, M
daughters, sons, Bak
d and impasted with the
parching streets, That lend a tyrannous and a damned light To their
vile murders. Roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o
coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old
grandsire Priam seeks._ So, proceed you.
Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good
FIRST PLAYER. _Anon he finds him, Striking too short at Greeks. His
antique sword, Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, RepugnanM
command. Unequal match
d, Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes
wide; But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword Th
falls. Then senseless Ilium, Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming
top Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash Takes prisoner
 ear. For lo, his sword, Which was declining on the milky head
Of reverend Priam, seem
air to stick. So, as a painted tyrant,
Pyrrhus stood, And like a neutral to his will and matter, Did nothing.
ften see against some storm, A silence in the heavens, the
rack stand still, The bold winds speechless, and the orb below As hush
as death, anon the dreadful thunder Doth rend the region; so after
 pause, Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work, And never did
 hammers fall On Mars
With less remorse than Pyrrhus
 bleeding sword Now falls on Priam. Out,
out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods, In general synod, take away
her power; Break all the sM
pokes and fellies from her wheel, And bowl
the round nave down the hill of heaven, As low as to the fiends._
POLONIUS. This is too long.
HAMLET. It shall to the barber
for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba.
FIRST PLAYER. _But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen,
FIRST PLAYER. _Run barefoot up and down, threat
ning the flames WitM
bisson rheum. A clout upon that head Where late the diadem stood, and
for a robe, About her lank and all o
erteemed loins, A blanket, in
alarm of fear caught up
 Who this had seen, with tongue in venom
s state would treason have pronounc
the gods themselves did see her then, When she saw Pyrrhus make
malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husband
instant burst of clamour that she made,
 Unless things mortal move them
 Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, And
passion in the gods._
POLONIUS. Look, where he has not turn
d his colour, and has tears in
eyes. Pray you, no more.
ll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.
my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them
be well used; for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the
time. After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their
ill report while you live.
lord, I will use them according to their desert.
s bodikin, man, better. Use every man after his desert, and
who should scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity.
The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
POLONIUS. Come, sirs.
HAMLET. Follow him, friends. We
ll hear a play tomorrow.
 [_Exeunt Polonius with all the Players but the First._]
Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play _The Murder of Gonzago_?
FIRST PLAYER. Ay, my lord.
t tomorrow night. You could for a need study a speech
of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert in
FIRST PLAYER. Ay, my lord.
HAMLET. Very well. Follow that lord, and look you mock him not.
 [_Exit First Player._]
[_To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern_] My good friends, I
till night. You are welcome to Elsinore.
ROSENCRANTZ. Good my lord.
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._]
HAMLET. Ay, so, God b
Now I am alone. O what a rogue and
peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a
fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own
conceit That from her working all his visage wan
d; Tears in his eyes,
s aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing! For Hecuba? What
Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would
he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion ThM
drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid
speech; Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, Confound the ignorant,
and amaze indeed, The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull
and muddy-mettled rascal, peak Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my
cause, And can say nothing. No, not for a king Upon whose property and
most dear life A damn
d defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me
villain, breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard and blows it in my
? Tweaks me by the nose, gives me the lie i
to the lungs? Who does me this? Ha!
Swounds, I should take it: for it
cannot be But I am pigeon-liver
d, and lack gall To make oppression
bitter, or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this
s offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous,
lecherous, kindless villain! Oh vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! This
is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murder
en and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with
words And fall a-cursing like a very drab, A scullion! Fie upon
About, my brain! I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene, Been struck so to the soul that
presently They have proclaim
d their malefactions. For murder, though
it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I
these players Play something like the murder of my father Before mine
ll observe his looksM
ll tent him to the quick. If he but
blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil,
and the devil hath power T
assume a pleasing shape, yea, and perhaps
Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such
spirits, Abuses me to damn me. I
ll have grounds More relative than
s the thing Wherein I
ll catch the conscience of the
SCENE I. A room in the Castle.
 Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, RosencrM
antz and Guildenstern.
KING. And can you by no drift of circumstance Get from him why he puts
on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With
turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
ROSENCRANTZ. He does confess he feels himself distracted, But from what
cause he will by no means speak.
GUILDENSTERN. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, But with a
crafty madness keeps aloof When we would bring him on to some
confession Of his true state.
QUEEN. Did he receive you well?
Most like a gentleman.
GUILDENSTERN. But with much forcing of his disposition.
ROSENCRANTZ. Niggard of question, but of our demands, Most free in his
QUEEN. Did you assay him to any pastime?
ROSENCRANTZ. Madam, it so fell out that certain players We o
on the way. Of these we told him, And there did seem in him a kind of
joy To hear of it. They are about the court, And, as I think, they have
already order This night to play before him.
Tis most true; And he beseech
d me to entreat your Majesties
To hear and see the matter.
KING. With all my heart; and it doth much content me To hear him so
d. Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, And drive his
purpose on to these delights.
ROSENCRANTZ. We shall, my lord.
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._]
KING. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too, For we have closely sent for Hamlet
hither, That he, as
twere by accident, may here Affront Ophelia. Her
father and myself, lawful espials, Will so bestow ourselvesM
seeing unseen, We may of their encounter frankly judge, And gather by
affliction of his love or no That
thus he suffers for.
QUEEN. I shall obey you. And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish That
your good beauties be the happy cause Of Hamlet
s wildness: so shall I
hope your virtues Will bring him to his wonted way again, To both your
OPHELIA. Madam, I wish it may.
POLONIUS. Ophelia, walk you here.
Gracious, so please you, M
[_To Ophelia._] Read on this book, That show of such
an exercise may colour Your loneliness.
We are oft to blame in this,
d, that with devotion
s visage And pious action we
er The devil himself.
tis too true! How smart a lash that speech doth
give my conscience! The harlot
s cheek, beautied with plastering art,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it Than is my deed to my most
painted word. O heavy burden!
OLONIUS. I hear him coming. Let
s withdraw, my lord.
 [_Exeunt King and Polonius._]
HAMLET. To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether
in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or
to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To
to sleep, No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache, and
the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to:
d. To die, to sleep. To M
s the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may
come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause.
s the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would
bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor
s contumely, The pangs of dispriz
insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy
takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkM
would these fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But
that the dread of something after death, The undiscover
whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather
bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus
conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of
resolution Is sicklied o
er with the pale cast of thought, And
enterprises of great pith and moment, With this regard their currents
 the name of action. Soft you now, The fair Ophelia!
Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember
OPHELIA. Good my lord, How does your honour for this many a day?
HAMLET. I humbly thank you; well, well, well.
OPHELIA. My lord, I have remembrances of yours That I have longed long
to re-deliver. I pray you, now receive them.
HAMLET. No, not I. I never gave you aught.
d lord, you know right well you did, And with them
words of so sweet breath compos
d As made the things mM
perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax
poor when givers prove unkind. There, my lord.
HAMLET. Ha, ha! Are you honest?
HAMLET. Are you fair?
OPHELIA. What means your lordship?
HAMLET. That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no
discourse to your beauty.
OPHELIA. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?
HAMLET. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform
honesty from what it is M
to a bawd than the force of honesty can
translate beauty into his likeness. This was sometime a paradox, but
now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.
OPHELIA. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
HAMLET. You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so inoculate
our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not.
OPHELIA. I was the more deceived.
HAMLET. Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of
sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me M
such things that it were better my mother had not borne me. I am very
proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have
thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act
them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and
heaven? We are arrant knaves all, believe none of us. Go thy ways to a
OPHELIA. At home, my lord.
HAMLET. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool
OPHELIA. O help him, you sweet heavens!
HAMLET. If thou dost marry, I
ll give thee this plague for thy dowry.
Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape
calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go: farewell. Or if thou wilt needs
marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you
make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. Farewell.
OPHELIA. O heavenly powers, restore him!
HAMLET. I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath given
u one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you amble, and
you lisp, and nickname God
s creatures, and make your wantonness your
t, it hath made me mad. I say, we
will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but
one, shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go.
OPHELIA. O, what a noble mind is here o
erthrown! The courtier
s, eye, tongue, sword, Th
expectancy and rose of the
fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, Th
all observers, quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and
d the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble
and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled out of tune and
d form and feature of blown youth Blasted with
ecstasy. O woe is me, T
have seen what I have seen, see what I see.
 Enter King and Polonius.
KING. Love? His affections do not that way tend, Nor what he M
d form a little, Was not like madness. There
er which his melancholy sits on brood, And I do doubt the
hatch and the disclose Will be some danger, which for to prevent, I
have in quick determination Thus set it down: he shall with speed to
England For the demand of our neglected tribute: Haply the seas and
countries different, With variable objects, shall expel This something
settled matter in his heart, Whereon his brains still beating puts him
m fashion of himself. What think you on
POLONIUS. It shall do well. But yet do I believe The origin and
commencement of his grief Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia?
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said, We heard it all. My lord,
do as you please, But if you hold it fit, after the play, Let his queen
mother all alone entreat him To show his grief, let her be round with
d, so please you, in the ear Of all their
conference. If she find him not, To England send hM
where Your wisdom best shall think.
KING. It shall be so. Madness in great ones must not unwatch
SCENE II. A hall in the Castle.
 Enter Hamlet and certain Players.
HAMLET. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you,
trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of your players
do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air
too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very
torrent, tempest, andM
, as I may say, whirlwind of passion, you must
acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it
offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a
passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings,
who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb
shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o
Termagant. It out-Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.
FIRST PLAYER. I warrant your honour.
HAMLET. Be not too tame neM
ither; but let your own discretion be your
tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this
special observance, that you o
erstep not the modesty of nature; for
anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at
the first and now, was and is, to hold as
twere the mirror up to
nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the
very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now, this
overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilfulM
but make the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one must in
erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players
that I have seen play
and heard others praise, and that highly
speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor
the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed
that I have thought some of Nature
s journeymen had made men, and not
made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
 I hope we have reform
d that indifferently with us, sir.
HAMLET. O reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns
speak no more than is set down for them. For there be of them that will
themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh
too, though in the meantime some necessary question of the play be then
to be considered. That
s villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition
in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready.
 [_Exeunt Players._]
 Enter Polonius, RosencrM
antz and Guildenstern.
How now, my lord? Will the King hear this piece of work?
POLONIUS. And the Queen too, and that presently.
HAMLET. Bid the players make haste.
Will you two help to hasten them?
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. We will, my lord.
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._]
HAMLET. What ho, Horatio!
HORATIO. Here, sweet lord, at your service.
HAMLET. Horatio, thou art e
en as just a man As e
HORATIO. O my dear lord.
HAMLET. Nay, do not think I flatter; For what advancement may I hope
from thee, That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits To feed and
clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter
d? No, let the candied
tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was
mistress of her choice, And could of men distinguish, her election Hath
d thee for herself. For thou hast been As one, in suffering allM
that suffers nothing, A man that Fortune
s buffets and rewards Hast
en with equal thanks. And bles
d are those Whose blood and judgment
are so well co-mingled That they are not a pipe for Fortune
sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion
slave, and I will wear him In my heart
s core, ay, in my heart of
heart, As I do thee. Something too much of this. There is a play
tonight before the King. One scene of it comes near the circumstance
Which I have told thM
s death. I prythee, when thou
st that act a-foot, Even with the very comment of thy soul Observe
mine uncle. If his occulted guilt Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
It is a damned ghost that we have seen; And my imaginations are as foul
s stithy. Give him heedful note; For I mine eyes will rivet
to his face; And after we will both our judgments join In censure of
HORATIO. Well, my lord. If he steal aught the whilst this play is
playing, And scape detecM
ting, I will pay the theft.
HAMLET. They are coming to the play. I must be idle. Get you a place.
 Danish march. A flourish. Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia,
 Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and others.
KING. How fares our cousin Hamlet?
HAMLET. Excellent, i
 faith; of the chameleon
s dish: I eat the air,
promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.
KING. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words are not
HAMLET. No, nor mine now. [_To Polonius._] My lord, you play
university, you say?
POLONIUS. That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.
HAMLET. What did you enact?
POLONIUS. I did enact Julius Caesar. I was kill
HAMLET. It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be
ROSENCRANTZ. Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.
QUEEN. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
HAMLET. No, good mother, here
s metal more attractive.
POLONIUS. [_To the King._] O ho! M
HAMLET. Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
 [_Lying down at Ophelia
OPHELIA. No, my lord.
HAMLET. I mean, my head upon your lap?
OPHELIA. Ay, my lord.
HAMLET. Do you think I meant country matters?
OPHELIA. I think nothing, my lord.
s a fair thought to lie between maids
OPHELIA. What is, my lord?
OPHELIA. You are merry, my lord.
OPHELIA. Ay, my lord.
HAMLET. O God, your only jig-maker! What shM
ould a man do but be merry?
For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died
tis twice two months, my lord.
HAMLET. So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I
suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet?
s memory may outlive his life half a
r lady, he must build churches then; or else shall he
suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is
for O, the hobby-horse is forgot!
 Trumpets sound. The dumb show enters.
_Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him and he
her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her
up, and declines his head upon her neck. Lays him down upon a bank of
flowers. She, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow,
takes off his crown, kisses it, pours poison in the King
exits. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate
ction. The Poisoner with some three or four Mutes, comes in again,
seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner
woos the Queen with gifts. She seems loth and unwilling awhile, but in
the end accepts his love._
OPHELIA. What means this, my lord?
HAMLET. Marry, this is miching mallicho; it means mischief.
OPHELIA. Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
HAMLET. We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot keep counsel;
OPHELIA. Will they tell us what this show meant?
HAMLET. Ay, or any show that you
ll show him. Be not you ashamed to
ll not shame to tell you what it means.
OPHELIA. You are naught, you are naught: I
PROLOGUE. _For us, and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency,
We beg your hearing patiently._
HAMLET. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
 Enter a King and a Queen.
AYER KING. Full thirty times hath Phoebus
 cart gone round Neptune
salt wash and Tellus
 orbed ground, And thirty dozen moons with
d sheen About the world have times twelve thirties been, Since
love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands Unite commutual in most sacred
PLAYER QUEEN. So many journeys may the sun and moon Make us again count
er ere love be done. But, woe is me, you are so sick of late, So far
from cheer and from your former state, That I distrust you. Yet, though
istrust, Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must: For women
and love holds quantity, In neither aught, or in extremity. Now what my
love is, proof hath made you know, And as my love is siz
so. Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little
fears grow great, great love grows there.
PLAYER KING. Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too: My
operant powers their functions leave to do: And thou shalt live in this
fair world behind, Honour
ly one as kind For husband
PLAYER QUEEN. O confound the rest. Such love must needs be treason in
my breast. In second husband let me be accurst! None wed the second but
HAMLET. [_Aside._] Wormwood, wormwood.
PLAYER QUEEN. The instances that second marriage move Are base respects
of thrift, but none of love. A second time I kill my husband dead, When
second husband kisses me in bed.
PLAYER KING. I do believe you think what now you speak; But what we do
e, oft we break. Purpose is but the slave to memory, Of violent
birth, but poor validity: Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the
tree, But fall unshaken when they mellow be. Most necessary
we forget To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt. What to ourselves
in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. The
violence of either grief or joy Their own enactures with themselves
destroy. Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; Grief joys, joy
grieves, on slender accidM
ent. This world is not for aye; nor
strange That even our loves should with our fortunes change, For
question left us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else
fortune love. The great man down, you mark his favourite flies, The
d makes friends of enemies; And hitherto doth love on
fortune tend: For who not needs shall never lack a friend, And who in
want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemy. But
orderly to end where I begun, Our wills and fates do M
That our devices still are overthrown. Our thoughts are ours, their
ends none of our own. So think thou wilt no second husband wed, But die
thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
PLAYER QUEEN. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light, Sport and
repose lock from me day and night, To desperation turn my trust and
s cheer in prison be my scope, Each opposite that
blanks the face of joy, Meet what I would have well, and it destroy!
Both here and hence pursue me lasting M
strife, If, once a widow, ever I
HAMLET. [_To Ophelia._] If she should break it now.
Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile. My spirits
grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep.
PLAYER QUEEN. Sleep rock thy brain, And never come mischance between us
HAMLET. Madam, how like you this play?
QUEEN. The lady protests too much, methinks.
KING. Have you heard the argument? M
Is there no offence in
HAMLET. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i
KING. What do you call the play?
HAMLET. _The Mousetrap._ Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image
of a murder done in Vienna. Gonzago is the Duke
Baptista: you shall see anon;
tis a knavish piece of work: but what o
that? Your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not. Let
d jade wince; our withers are unwrung.
s one Lucianus, nephew to the King.
OPHELIA. You are a good chorus, my lord.
HAMLET. I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see the
OPHELIA. You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
HAMLET. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.
OPHELIA. Still better, and worse.
HAMLET. So you mistake your husbands.
Begin, murderer. Pox, leave thy
damnable faces, and begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for
LUCIANUS. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugsM
 fit, and time agreeing,
Confederate season, else no creature seeing; Thou mixture rank, of
midnight weeds collected, With Hecate
s ban thrice blasted, thrice
infected, Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurp
 [_Pours the poison into the sleeper
HAMLET. He poisons him i
The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You shall see
anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago
HAMLET. What, frighted with false fire?
QUEEN. How fares my lord?
KING. Give me some light. Away.
All. Lights, lights, lights.
 [_Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio._]
HAMLET. Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For
some must watch, while some must sleep, So runs the world away. Would
not this, sir, and a forest of feathers, if the rest of my fortunes
turn Turk with me; with two Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get M
a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?
HORATIO. Half a share.
HAMLET. A whole one, I. For thou dost know, O Damon dear, This realm
dismantled was Of Jove himself, and now reigns here A very,
HORATIO. You might have rhymed.
HAMLET. O good Horatio, I
s word for a thousand
pound. Didst perceive?
HORATIO. Very well, my lord.
HAMLET. Upon the talk of the poisoning?
HORATIO. I did very well note him.
HAMLET. Ah, ha! Come, some music. Come, the recorders.M
like not the comedy, Why then, belike he likes it not, perdie. Come,
 Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
GUILDENSTERN. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
HAMLET. Sir, a whole history.
GUILDENSTERN. The King, sir
HAMLET. Ay, sir, what of him?
GUILDENSTERN. Is in his retirement, marvellous distempered.
HAMLET. With drink, sir?
GUILDENSTERN. No, my lord; rather with choler.
HAMLET. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to
doctor, for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps plunge him
into far more choler.
GUILDENSTERN. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and
start not so wildly from my affair.
HAMLET. I am tame, sir, pronounce.
GUILDENSTERN. The Queen your mother, in most great affliction of
spirit, hath sent me to you.
HAMLET. You are welcome.
GUILDENSTERN. Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right
breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I will do
s commandment; if not, your pardon and my return shall be
the end of my business.
HAMLET. Sir, I cannot.
GUILDENSTERN. What, my lord?
HAMLET. Make you a wholesome answer. My wit
s diseased. But, sir, such
answer as I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say, my
mother. Therefore no more, but to the matter. My mother, you say,
ROSENCRANTZ. Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into
amazement and admiration.
HAMLET. O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But is tM
sequel at the heels of this mother
ROSENCRANTZ. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to
HAMLET. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any
further trade with us?
ROSENCRANTZ. My lord, you once did love me.
HAMLET. And so I do still, by these pickers and stealers.
ROSENCRANTZ. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do
surely bar the door upon your own liberty if you deny your griefs to
HAMLET. Sir, I lack aM
ROSENCRANTZ. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King
himself for your succession in Denmark?
HAMLET. Ay, sir, but while the grass grows
the proverb is something
 Re-enter the Players with recorders.
O, the recorders. Let me see one.
To withdraw with you, why do you go
about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?
GUILDENSTERN. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too
HAMLET. I do not well understand that. Will yoM
u play upon this pipe?
GUILDENSTERN. My lord, I cannot.
GUILDENSTERN. Believe me, I cannot.
HAMLET. I do beseech you.
GUILDENSTERN. I know no touch of it, my lord.
Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your finger
and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most
eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.
GUILDENSTERN. But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony. I
HAMLET. Why, look you now, hM
ow unworthy a thing you make of me! You
would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck
out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to
the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in
this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak.
Sblood, do you think
I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you
will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
POLONIUS. My lord, the M
Queen would speak with you, and presently.
HAMLET. Do you see yonder cloud that
s almost in shape of a camel?
POLONIUS. By the mass, and
tis like a camel indeed.
HAMLET. Methinks it is like a weasel.
POLONIUS. It is backed like a weasel.
HAMLET. Or like a whale.
POLONIUS. Very like a whale.
HAMLET. Then will I come to my mother by and by.
I will come by and by.
POLONIUS. I will say so.
HAMLET. By and by is easily said. Leave me, M
 [_Exeunt all but Hamlet._]
Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and
hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot
blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
Soft now, to my mother. O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever The
soul of Nero enter this firm bosom: Let me be cruel, not unnatural. I
will speak daggers to her, but use none; My tongue and soul in this be
hypocrites. How in my words somever she be sheM
nt, To give them seals
never, my soul, consent.
SCENE III. A room in the Castle.
 Enter King, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING. I like him not, nor stands it safe with us To let his madness
range. Therefore prepare you, I your commission will forthwith
dispatch, And he to England shall along with you. The terms of our
estate may not endure Hazard so near us as doth hourly grow Out of his
GUILDENSTERN. We will ourselves provide. Most holy and religious fear
hose many many bodies safe That live and feed upon your
ROSENCRANTZ. The single and peculiar life is bound With all the
strength and armour of the mind, To keep itself from
more That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest The lives of many. The
cease of majesty Dies not alone; but like a gulf doth draw What
it with it. It is a massy wheel Fix
d on the summit of the highest
mount, To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things Are mortis
hen it falls, Each small annexment, petty consequence,
rous ruin. Never alone Did the King sigh, but with a
KING. Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; For we will fetters
put upon this fear, Which now goes too free-footed.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. We will haste us.
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._]
POLONIUS. My lord, he
s going to his mother
s closet. Behind the arras
ll convey myself To hear the process. I
home, And as you said, and wisely was it said,
Tis meet that some more
audience than a mother, Since nature makes them partial, should
erhear The speech of vantage. Fare you well, my liege, I
you ere you go to bed, And tell you what I know.
KING. Thanks, dear my lord.
O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; It hath the primal eldest
s murder! Pray can I not, Though inclination
be as sharp as will: My stroM
nger guilt defeats my strong intent, And,
like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall
first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker
than itself with brother
s blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet
heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy But to confront
the visage of offence? And what
s in prayer but this twofold force, To
be forestalled ere we come to fall, Or pardon
d being down? Then I
look up. My fault is past. But O, what forM
m of prayer Can serve my
turn? Forgive me my foul murder! That cannot be; since I am still
d Of those effects for which I did the murder,
own ambition, and my queen. May one be pardon
In the corrupted currents of this world Offence
s gilded hand may shove
by justice, And oft
tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law.
tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In
his true nature, and we ourselves compell
forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. What then? What rests? Try
what repentance can. What can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot
repent? O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul, that
struggling to be free, Art more engag
d! Help, angels! Make assay: Bow,
stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of
the new-born babe. All may be well.
 [_Retires and kneels._]
HAMLET. Now might I do it pat, now he is praying. And noM
And so he goes to heaven; And so am I reveng
d. That would be scann
A villain kills my father, and for that I, his sole son, do this same
villain send To heaven. O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. He
took my father grossly, full of bread, With all his crimes broad blown,
as flush as May; And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven? But
in our circumstance and course of thought,
Tis heavy with him. And am
d, To take him in the purging of his soul, When he iM
d for his passage? No. Up, sword, and know thou a more
horrid hent: When he is drunk asleep; or in his rage, Or in
incestuous pleasure of his bed, At gaming, swearing; or about some
act That has no relish of salvation in
t, Then trip him, that his heels
may kick at heaven, And that his soul may be as damn
hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays. This physic but prolongs thy
 The King rises and advances.
KING. My words fly up, my thougM
hts remain below. Words without thoughts
SCENE IV. Another room in the Castle.
 Enter Queen and Polonius.
POLONIUS. He will come straight. Look you lay home to him, Tell him his
pranks have been too broad to bear with, And that your Grace hath
d and stood between Much heat and him. I
here. Pray you be round with him.
HAMLET. [_Within._] Mother, mother, mother.
ll warrant you, Fear me not. Withdraw, I hear him coming.
 [_Polonius goes behind the arras._]
HAMLET. Now, mother, what
QUEEN. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
HAMLET. Mother, you have my father much offended.
QUEEN. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
HAMLET. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
QUEEN. Why, how now, Hamlet?
QUEEN. Have you forgot me?
HAMLET. No, by the rood, not so. You are the Queen, your husband
s wife, And, would it weM
re not so. You are my mother.
ll set those to you that can speak.
HAMLET. Come, come, and sit you down, you shall not budge. You go not
till I set you up a glass Where you may see the inmost part of you.
QUEEN. What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me? Help, help, ho!
POLONIUS. [_Behind._] What, ho! help, help, help!
HAMLET. How now? A rat? [_Draws._] Dead for a ducat, dead!
 [_Makes a pass through the arras._]
POLONIUS. [_Behind._] O, I am slain!
 [_Falls and dies._]M
QUEEN. O me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET. Nay, I know not. is it the King?
 [_Draws forth Polonius._]
QUEEN. O what a rash and bloody deed is this!
HAMLET. A bloody deed. Almost as bad, good mother, As kill a king and
marry with his brother.
QUEEN. As kill a king?
 [_To Polonius._] Thou wretched, rash,
intruding fool, farewell! I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune,
st to be too busy is some danger.
 Leave wringing of your
ace, sit you down, And let me wring your heart, for so I
shall, If it be made of penetrable stuff; If damned custom have not
d it so, That it is proof and bulwark against sense.
QUEEN. What have I done, that thou dar
st wag thy tongue In noise so
HAMLET. Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, Calls
virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an
innocent love, And sets a blister there. Makes marriage vows As false
eed As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul, and sweet religion makes A rhapsody of words. Heaven
face doth glow, Yea this solidity and compound mass, With tristful
visage, as against the doom, Is thought-sick at the act.
QUEEN. Ay me, what act, That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
HAMLET. Look here upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit
presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow,
s curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like MarM
threaten and command, A station like the herald Mercury New lighted on
a heaven-kissing hill: A combination and a form indeed, Where every god
did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man. This
was your husband. Look you now what follows. Here is your husband, like
d ear Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you
on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? Ha! have
you eyes? You cannot call it love; for at your age The hey-day in the
s humble, And waits upon the judgment: and what
judgment Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have, Else could
you not have motion; but sure that sense Is apoplex
would not err Nor sense to ecstacy was ne
d some quantity of choice To serve in such a difference. What
t That thus hath cozen
d you at hoodman-blind? Eyes without
feeling, feeling without sight, Ears without hands or eyes, smelling
sans all, Or but a sickly partM
 of one true sense Could not so mope. O
shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutine in a
s bones, To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, And melt in her
own fire. Proclaim no shame When the compulsive ardour gives the
charge, Since frost itself as actively doth burn, And reason panders
QUEEN. O Hamlet, speak no more. Thou turn
st mine eyes into my very
soul, And there I see such black and grained spots As will not leave
HAMLET. Nay, but to live In the M
rank sweat of an enseamed bed, Stew
in corruption, honeying and making love Over the nasty sty.
QUEEN. O speak to me no more; These words like daggers enter in mine
ears; No more, sweet Hamlet.
HAMLET. A murderer and a villain; A slave that is not twentieth part
the tithe Of your precedent lord. A vice of kings, A cutpurse of the
empire and the rule, That from a shelf the precious diadem stole And
put it in his pocket!
HAMLET. A king of shreds and patches!
er me with your wings, You heavenly guards! What
would your gracious figure?
HAMLET. Do you not come your tardy son to chide, That, laps
and passion, lets go by The important acting of your dread command? O
GHOST. Do not forget. This visitation Is but to whet thy almost blunted
purpose. But look, amazement on thy mother sits. O step between her and
her fighting soul. Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. Speak to
MLET. How is it with you, lady?
t with you, That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? Forth at your eyes your
spirits wildly peep, And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, Your
bedded hairs, like life in excrements, Start up and stand an end. O
gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool
patience. Whereon do you look?
HAMLET. On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares, His form and cause
 stones, Would make them capable.
upon me, Lest with this piteous action you convert My stern effects.
Then what I have to do Will want true colour; tears perchance for
QUEEN. To whom do you speak this?
HAMLET. Do you see nothing there?
QUEEN. Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
HAMLET. Nor did you nothing hear?
QUEEN. No, nothing but ourselves.
HAMLET. Why, look you there! look how it steals away! My father, in his
d! Look where he goes even now out aM
QUEEN. This is the very coinage of your brain. This bodiless creation
ecstasy Is very cunning in.
HAMLET. Ecstasy! My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, And
makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have utter
me to the test, And I the matter will re-word; which madness Would
gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction
to your soul That not your trespass, but my madness speaks. It will but
skin and film the ulcerouM
s place, Whilst rank corruption, mining all
within, Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what
avoid what is to come; And do not spread the compost on the weeds, To
make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; For in the fatness of
these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, Yea, curb and
woo for leave to do him good.
QUEEN. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
HAMLET. O throw away the worser part of it, And live the purer with the
other half. Good night. But M
go not to mine uncle
virtue, if you have it not. That monster custom, who all sense doth
eat, Of habits evil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions
fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery That aptly is put on.
Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next
abstinence. The next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of
nature, And either curb the devil, or throw him out With wondrous
potency. Once more, good night, And when you are desirous tM
ll blessing beg of you. For this same lord [_Pointing to Polonius._]
I do repent; but heaven hath pleas
d it so, To punish me with this, and
this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow
him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So again, good night. I
must be cruel, only to be kind: Thus bad begins, and worse remains
behind. One word more, good lady.
QUEEN. What shall I do?
HAMLET. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: Let the bloat King
u again to bed, Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse,
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, Or paddling in your neck with
d fingers, Make you to ravel all this matter out, That I
essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft.
him know, For who that
s but a queen, fair, sober, wise, Would from a
paddock, from a bat, a gib, Such dear concernings hide? Who would do
so? No, in despite of sense and secrecy, Unpeg the basket on the
s top, Let the birds flyM
, and like the famous ape, To try
conclusions, in the basket creep And break your own neck down.
QUEEN. Be thou assur
d, if words be made of breath, And breath of life,
I have no life to breathe What thou hast said to me.
HAMLET. I must to England, you know that?
QUEEN. Alack, I had forgot.
Tis so concluded on.
d: and my two schoolfellows, Whom I will
trust as I will adders fang
 They bear the mandate, they must sweep
my way And marshal me to knavery. LetM
have the enginer Hoist with his own petard, and
t shall go hard But I
will delve one yard below their mines And blow them at the moon. O,
tis most sweet, When in one line two crafts directly meet. This man
shall set me packing. I
ll lug the guts into the neighbour room.
Mother, good night. Indeed, this counsellor Is now most still, most
secret, and most grave, Who was in life a foolish peating knave. Come,
sir, to draw toward an end with you. Good night, mother.
[_Exit Hamlet dragging out Polonius._]
SCENE I. A room in the Castle.
 Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
s matter in these sighs. These profound heaves You must
tis fit we understand them. Where is your son?
QUEEN. Bestow this place on us a little while.
 [_To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who go out._]
Ah, my good lord, what have I seen tonight!
KING. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?
QUEEN. Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend M
mightier. In his lawless fit Behind the arras hearing something stir,
Whips out his rapier, cries
 And in this brainish
apprehension kills The unseen good old man.
KING. O heavy deed! It had been so with us, had we been there. His
liberty is full of threats to all; To you yourself, to us, to everyone.
Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer
d? It will be laid to us,
whose providence Should have kept short, restrain
This mad young man. But so much M
was our love We would not understand
what was most fit, But like the owner of a foul disease, To keep it
from divulging, let it feed Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?
QUEEN. To draw apart the body he hath kill
madness, like some ore Among a mineral of metals base, Shows itself
pure. He weeps for what is done.
KING. O Gertrude, come away! The sun no sooner shall the mountains
touch But we will ship him hence, and this vile deed We must with all
our majesty and skill BoM
th countenance and excuse.
 Re-enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Friends both, go join you with some further aid: Hamlet in madness hath
Polonius slain, And from his mother
s closet hath he dragg
seek him out, speak fair, and bring the body Into the chapel. I pray
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._]
ll call up our wisest friends, And let them know
both what we mean to do And what
s untimely done, so haply slander,
s diameter, As level as the cannon to his
blank, Transports his poison
d shot, may miss our name, And hit the
woundless air. O, come away! My soul is full of discord and dismay.
SCENE II. Another room in the Castle.
HAMLET. Safely stowed.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. [_Within._] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
HAMLET. What noise? Who calls on Hamlet? O, here they come.
 Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
ROSENCRANTZ. What have you done, M
my lord, with the dead body?
HAMLET. Compounded it with dust, whereto
ROSENCRANTZ. Tell us where
tis, that we may take it thence, And bear
HAMLET. Do not believe it.
ROSENCRANTZ. Believe what?
HAMLET. That I can keep your counsel, and not mine own. Besides, to be
demanded of a sponge
what replication should be made by the son of a
ROSENCRANTZ. Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
HAMLET. Ay, sir; that soaks up the King
s countenance, his rewards, his
authorities. But such officers do the King best service in the end: he
keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be
last swallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but
squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.
ROSENCRANTZ. I understand you not, my lord.
HAMLET. I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
ROSENCRANTZ. My lord, you must tell us where the body is and go with us
HAMLET. The body is with the King, but the King iM
s not with the body.
GUILDENSTERN. A thing, my lord!
HAMLET. Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.
SCENE III. Another room in the Castle.
 Enter King, attended.
KING. I have sent to seek him and to find the body. How dangerous is it
that this man goes loose! Yet must not we put the strong law on him:
d of the distracted multitude, Who like not in their judgment,
but their eyes; And where
But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even, This sudden sending
him away must seem Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown By
desperate appliance are reliev
How now? What hath befall
ROSENCRANTZ. Where the dead body is bestow
d, my lord, We cannot get
KING. But where is he?
ROSENCRANTZ. Without, my lord, guarded, to know your pleasure.
KING. Bring him before us.
ROSENCRANTZ. Ho, Guildenstern! Bring in my lord.
Enter Hamlet and Guildenstern.
KING. Now, Hamlet, where
KING. At supper? Where?
HAMLET. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation
of politic worms are e
en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for
diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for
maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable
two dishes, but to one table. That
HAMLET. A man may fish with the worm M
that hath eat of a king, and eat
of the fish that hath fed of that worm.
KING. What dost thou mean by this?
HAMLET. Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through
the guts of a beggar.
KING. Where is Polonius?
HAMLET. In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger find him not
other place yourself. But indeed, if you find him
not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into
KING. [_To some Attendants._] Go seek him thereM
HAMLET. He will stay till you come.
 [_Exeunt Attendants._]
KING. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,
tender, as we dearly grieve For that which thou hast done,
thee hence With fiery quickness. Therefore prepare thyself; The bark is
ready, and the wind at help, Th
associates tend, and everything is bent
HAMLET. For England?
KING. So is it, if thou knew
HAMLET. I see a cherub that seesM
 them. But, come; for England!
Farewell, dear mother.
KING. Thy loving father, Hamlet.
HAMLET. My mother. Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is
one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England.
KING. Follow him at foot. Tempt him with speed aboard; Delay it not;
ll have him hence tonight. Away, for everything is seal
That else leans on th
affair. Pray you make haste.
 [_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._]
And England, if my love thou hold
thereof may give thee sense, Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
After the Danish sword, and thy free awe Pays homage to us,
not coldly set Our sovereign process, which imports at full, By letters
conjuring to that effect, The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For like the hectic in my blood he rages, And thou must cure me. Till I
er my haps, my joys were ne
SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark.
ras and Forces marching.
FORTINBRAS. Go, Captain, from me greet the Danish king. Tell him that
by his license, Fortinbras Craves the conveyance of a promis
Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. If that his Majesty would
aught with us, We shall express our duty in his eye; And let him know
FORTINBRAS. Go softly on.
 [_Exeunt all but the Captain._]
 Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern &c.
HAMLET. Good sir, whose powers are these?
. They are of Norway, sir.
CAPTAIN. Against some part of Poland.
HAMLET. Who commands them, sir?
CAPTAIN. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.
HAMLET. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, Or for some frontier?
CAPTAIN. Truly to speak, and with no addition, We go to gain a little
patch of ground That hath in it no profit but the name. To pay five
ducats, five, I would not farm it; Nor will it yield to Norway or the
Pole A ranker rate, should it be soM
HAMLET. Why, then the Polack never will defend it.
CAPTAIN. Yes, it is already garrison
HAMLET. Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats Will not debate
the question of this straw! This is th
imposthume of much wealth and
peace, That inward breaks, and shows no cause without Why the man dies.
I humbly thank you, sir.
t please you go, my lord?
ll be with you straight. Go a little before.
Exeunt all but Hamlet._]
How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge. What
is a man If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and
feed? A beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike
reason To fust in us unus
d. Now whether it be Bestial oblivion, or
some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on th
d, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parM
I do not know Why yet I live to say this thing
have cause, and will, and strength, and means To do
as earth exhort me, Witness this army of such mass and charge, Led by a
delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff
Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an eggshell.
Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly
 quarrel in a straw When honour
s at the stake. How stand I
then, That have a father kill
d, Excitements of my
reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The
imminent death of twenty thousand men That, for a fantasy and trick of
fame, Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the
numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To
hide the slain? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody or be
CENE V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
 Enter Queen, Horatio and a Gentleman.
QUEEN. I will not speak with her.
GENTLEMAN. She is importunate, indeed distract. Her mood will needs be
QUEEN. What would she have?
GENTLEMAN. She speaks much of her father; says she hears There
 world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurns enviously at
straws, speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense. Her speech
is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it doth move The hearers to
lection; they aim at it, And botch the words up fit to their own
thoughts, Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them,
Indeed would make one think there might be thought, Though nothing
sure, yet much unhappily.
Twere good she were spoken with, for she may
strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
QUEEN. Let her come in.
 [_Exit Gentleman._]
To my sick soul, as sin
s true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to
some great amiss. So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills
itself in fearing to be spilt.
OPHELIA. Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?
QUEEN. How now, Ophelia?
OPHELIA. [_Sings._] How should I your true love know From another one?
By his cockle bat and staff And his sandal shoon.
QUEEN. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
OPHELIA. Say you? Nay, pray you mark. [_Sings._] He is dead and gone,
lady, He is dead and gone, At his head a grass green turf, At his heels
QUEEN. Nay, but Ophelia
OPHELIA. Pray you marM
k. [_Sings._] White his shroud as the mountain
QUEEN. Alas, look here, my lord!
OPHELIA. [_Sings._] Larded all with sweet flowers; Which bewept to the
grave did go With true-love showers.
KING. How do you, pretty lady?
OPHELIA. Well, God dild you! They say the owl was a baker
Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your
KING. Conceit upon her father.
OPHELIA. Pray you, let
s have no words of this; but when they ask you
t it means, say you this: [_Sings._] Tomorrow is Saint Valentine
day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your
   Then up he rose and donn
d his clothes, And dupp
   Let in the maid, that out a maid Never departed more.
KING. Pretty Ophelia!
OPHELIA. Indeed la, without an oath, I
By Gis and by Saint Charity, Alack, and fie for shame! Young men will
t; By Cock, they are to blameM
   Quoth she, before you tumbled me, You promis
d me to wed. So would I
 done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed.
KING. How long hath she been thus?
OPHELIA. I hope all will be well. We must be patient. But I cannot
choose but weep, to think they would lay him i
brother shall know of it. And so I thank you for your good counsel.
Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies; good
KING. Follow her closM
e; give her good watch, I pray you.
O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father
death. O Gertrude, Gertrude, When sorrows come, they come not single
spies, But in battalions. First, her father slain; Next, your son gone;
and he most violent author Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers For good
 death; and we have done but greenly In hugger-mugger to inter
him. Poor Ophelia Divided froM
m herself and her fair judgment, Without
the which we are pictures or mere beasts. Last, and as much containing
as all these, Her brother is in secret come from France, Feeds on his
wonder, keeps himself in clouds, And wants not buzzers to infect his
ear With pestilent speeches of his father
s death, Wherein necessity,
d, Will nothing stick our person to arraign In ear and
ear. O my dear Gertrude, this, Like to a murdering piece, in many
places Gives me superfluous death.
QUEEN. Alack, what noise is this?
KING. Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
GENTLEMAN. Save yourself, my lord. The ocean, overpeering of his list,
Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste Than young Laertes, in a
erbears your offices. The rabble call him lord, And, as
the world were now but to begin, Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word, They cry
 Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be king, Laertes king.
QUEEN. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry. O, this is counter,
you false Danish dogs.
 [_A noise within._]
KING. The doors are broke.
 Enter Laertes, armed; Danes following.
LAERTES. Where is this king?
Sirs, stand you all without.
LAERTES. I pray you, give me leave.
DANES. We will, we will.
 [_They retire without the door._]
LAERTES. I thank yoM
u. Keep the door. O thou vile king, Give me my
QUEEN. Calmly, good Laertes.
LAERTES. That drop of blood that
s calm proclaims me bastard; Cries
cuckold to my father, brands the harlot Even here between the chaste
unsmirched brow Of my true mother.
KING. What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so
 Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person. There
divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.
aertes, Why thou art thus
Let him go, Gertrude:
LAERTES. Where is my father?
QUEEN. But not by him.
KING. Let him demand his fill.
LAERTES. How came he dead? I
ll not be juggled with. To hell,
allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the
profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand, That both the
worlds, I give to negligence, Let come what comes; only I
d Most throughly for my father.
LAERTES. My will, not all the world. And for my means, I
them so well, They shall go far with little.
KING. Good Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear
t writ in your revenge That, sweepstake, you will
draw both friend and foe, Winner and loser?
LAERTES. None but his enemies.
KING. Will you know them then?
LAERTES. To his good friends thus wide I
ll ope my arms; And, like the
kind life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blM
KING. Why, now you speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I
am guiltless of your father
s death, And am most sensibly in grief for
it, It shall as level to your judgment
pear As day does to your eye.
DANES. [_Within._] Let her come in.
LAERTES. How now! What noise is that?
 Re-enter Ophelia, fantastically dressed with straws and flowers.
O heat, dry up my brains. Tears seven times salt, Burn out the sense
and virtue of mine eye. By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight,M
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May! Dear maid, kind sister,
sweet Ophelia! O heavens, is
t possible a young maid
as mortal as an old man
s life? Nature is fine in love, and where
fine, It sends some precious instance of itself After the thing it
OPHELIA. [_Sings._] They bore him barefac
d on the bier, Hey no nonny,
nonny, hey nonny And on his grave rain
LAERTES. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, M
OPHELIA. You must sing
Down a-down, and you call him a-down-a.
the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward that stole his master
LAERTES. This nothing
s for remembrance; pray love, remember.
And there is pansies, that
LAERTES. A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.
s fennel for you, and columbines. There
ome for me. We may call it herb of grace o
must wear your rue with a difference. There
s a daisy. I would give you
some violets, but they wither
d all when my father died. They say he
made a good end. [_Sings._] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
LAERTES. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself She turns to
favour and to prettiness.
OPHELIA. [_Sings._] And will he not come again? And will he not come
again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy death-bed, He never will come
   His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his poll. He is gone,
   he is gone, And we cast away moan. God ha
And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God b
LAERTES. Do you see this, O God?
KING. Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right. Go
but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, And they
shall hear and judge
twixt you and me. If by direct or by collateral
hand They find us touch
d, we will our kingdM
om give, Our crown, our
life, and all that we call ours To you in satisfaction; but if not, Be
you content to lend your patience to us, And we shall jointly labour
with your soul To give it due content.
LAERTES. Let this be so; His means of death, his obscure burial,
trophy, sword, nor hatchment o
er his bones, No noble rite, nor formal
 Cry to be heard, as
twere from heaven to earth, That I
KING. So you shall. And where th
offence is let the great M
pray you go with me.
SCENE VI. Another room in the Castle.
 Enter Horatio and a Servant.
HORATIO. What are they that would speak with me?
SERVANT. Sailors, sir. They say they have letters for you.
HORATIO. Let them come in.
I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted, if not
FIRST SAILOR. God bless you, sir.
HORATIO. Let him bless thee too.
FIRST SAILOR. He shall, sir, and
you, sir. It comes from th
ambassador that was bound for England; if
your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.
HORATIO. [_Reads._]
Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this,
give these fellows some means to the King. They have letters for him.
Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment
gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a
compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded them. On the instant
they got clear of ouM
r ship, so I alone became their prisoner. They have
dealt with me like thieves of mercy. But they knew what they did; I am
to do a good turn for them. Let the King have the letters I have sent,
and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldst fly death. I
have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much
too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring
thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for
England: of them I have much to tell theeM
. Farewell. He that thou
knowest thine, HAMLET.
Come, I will give you way for these your letters, And do
speedier, that you may direct me To him from whom you brought them.
SCENE VII. Another room in the Castle.
 Enter King and Laertes.
KING. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal, And you must put me
in your heart for friend, Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he which hath your noble father slain Pursu
LAERTES. It well appears. But teM
ll me Why you proceeded not against
these feats, So crimeful and so capital in nature, As by your safety,
wisdom, all things else, You mainly were stirr
KING. O, for two special reasons, Which may to you, perhaps, seem much
d, But yet to me they are strong. The Queen his mother Lives
almost by his looks; and for myself,
 My virtue or my plague, be it
s so conjunctive to my life and soul, That, as the
star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her. The otM
motive, Why to a public count I might not go, Is the great love the
general gender bear him, Who, dipping all his faults in their
affection, Would like the spring that turneth wood to stone, Convert
his gyves to graces; so that my arrows, Too slightly timber
loud a wind, Would have reverted to my bow again, And not where I had
LAERTES. And so have I a noble father lost, A sister driven into
desperate terms, Whose worth, if praises may go back again, Stood
challenger on mount M
of all the age For her perfections. But my revenge
KING. Break not your sleeps for that. You must not think That we are
made of stuff so flat and dull That we can let our beard be shook with
danger, And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more. I lov
father, and we love ourself, And that, I hope, will teach you to
MESSENGER. Letters, my lord, from Hamlet. This to your Majesty; this to
KING. From Hamlet! Who bM
MESSENGER. Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not. They were given
me by Claudio. He receiv
d them Of him that brought them.
KING. Laertes, you shall hear them. Leave us.
 [_Exit Messenger._]
High and mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your
kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes. When I
shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasions of my
sudden and more strange return. HAMLET.
What should this mean? Are all the restM
 come back? Or is it some abuse,
LAERTES. Know you the hand?
 And in a postscript here he
LAERTES. I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come, It warms the very
sickness in my heart That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,
KING. If it be so, Laertes,
 As how should it be so? How otherwise?
LAERTES. Ay, my lord; So you will not o
KING. To thine own peace. If he be now return
d, As checking at his
voyage, and that he means No more to undertake it, I will work him To
exploit, now ripe in my device, Under the which he shall not choose but
fall; And for his death no wind shall breathe, But even his mother
shall uncharge the practice And call it accident.
LAERTES. My lord, I will be rul
d; The rather if you could devise it so
That I might be the organ.
KING. It falls right. You have been talk
s hearing, for a quality Wherein they say you shine.
Your sum of parts Did not together pluck such envy from him As did that
one, and that, in my regard, Of the unworthiest siege.
LAERTES. What part is that, my lord?
KING. A very riband in the cap of youth, Yet needful too, for youth no
less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears Than settled
age his sables and his weeds, Importing health and graveness. Two
months since Here was a gentleman of Normandy,
d against, the French, And they can well on horseback, but this
gallant Had witchcraft in
t. He grew unto his seat, And to such
wondrous doing brought his horse, As had he been incorps
d With the brave beast. So far he topp
in forgery of shapes and tricks, Come short of what he did.
LAERTES. A Norman was
LAERTES. Upon my life, Lamond.
KING. The very same.
LAERTES. I know him well. He is the brooch inM
deed And gem of all the
KING. He made confession of you, And gave you such a masterly report
For art and exercise in your defence, And for your rapier most
especially, That he cried out
twould be a sight indeed If one could
match you. The scrimers of their nation He swore had neither motion,
guard, nor eye, If you oppos
d them. Sir, this report of his Did Hamlet
so envenom with his envy That he could nothing do but wish and beg Your
er to play with him. Now, out of this,
LAERTES. What out of this, my lord?
KING. Laertes, was your father dear to you? Or are you like the
painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart?
LAERTES. Why ask you this?
KING. Not that I think you did not love your father, But that I know
love is begun by time, And that I see, in passages of proof, Time
qualifies the spark and fire of it. There lives within the very flame
of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it; And nothing is at a
like goodness still, For goodness, growing to a pleurM
own too much. That we would do, We should do when we would; for this
 changes, And hath abatements and delays as many As there are
tongues, are hands, are accidents; And then this
spendthrift sigh That hurts by easing. But to the quick o
Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake To show yourself your
s son in deed, More than in words?
LAERTES. To cut his throat i
KING. No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarizM
e; Revenge should have
no bounds. But good Laertes, Will you do this, keep close within your
chamber. Hamlet return
d shall know you are come home: We
those shall praise your excellence, And set a double varnish on the
fame The Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine together And wager on
your heads. He, being remiss, Most generous, and free from all
contriving, Will not peruse the foils; so that with ease, Or with a
little shuffling, you may choose A sword unbated, and in a pass of
quite him for your father.
t. And for that purpose I
ll anoint my sword. I
bought an unction of a mountebank So mortal that, but dip a knife in
it, Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, Collected from all
simples that have virtue Under the moon, can save the thing from death
ll touch my point With this contagion,
that if I gall him slightly, It may be death.
s further think of this, Weigh what convenience both of time
May fit us to our shape. If this should fail, And that our
drift look through our bad performance.
Twere better not assay
Therefore this project Should have a back or second, that might hold If
this did blast in proof. Soft, let me see. We
ll make a solemn wager on
t! When in your motion you are hot and dry, As
make your bouts more violent to that end, And that he calls for drink,
d him A chalice for the nonce; whereon but sipping, If
d stuck, Our purpose may hold there.
How now, sweet Queen?
QUEEN. One woe doth tread upon another
s heel, So fast they follow.
QUEEN. There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoary
leaves in the glassy stream. There with fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal
shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men
call them. There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds Clamb
hang, an envious sliver broke, When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide, And mermaid-like,
awhile they bore her up, Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and
indued Unto that element. But long it could not be Till that her
garments, heavy with their drink, Pull
d the poor wretch from her
melodious lay To muddM
LAERTES. Alas, then she is drown
LAERTES. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I
forbid my tears. But yet It is our trick; nature her custom holds, Let
shame say what it will. When these are gone, The woman will be out.
Adieu, my lord, I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But
that this folly douts it.
s follow, Gertrude; How much I had to do to calm his rage!
Now fear I this will give it start again;M
SCENE I. A churchyard.
 Enter two Clowns with spades, &c.
FIRST CLOWN. Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she wilfully
seeks her own salvation?
SECOND CLOWN. I tell thee she is, and therefore make her grave
straight. The crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.
FIRST CLOWN. How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own
FIRST CLOWN. It must be _se offendendo_M
, it cannot be else. For here
lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act: and an
act hath three branches. It is to act, to do, and to perform: argal,
she drowned herself wittingly.
SECOND CLOWN. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,
FIRST CLOWN. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the
man; good. If the man go to this water and drown himself, it is, will
he nill he, he goes,
mark you that. But if the water come to him and
drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, he M
that is not guilty of his
own death shortens not his own life.
SECOND CLOWN. But is this law?
FIRST CLOWN. Ay, marry, is
SECOND CLOWN. Will you ha
t? If this had not been a
gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o
FIRST CLOWN. Why, there thou say
st. And the more pity that great folk
should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more
than their even Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient
 but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: they hold up
SECOND CLOWN. Was he a gentleman?
FIRST CLOWN. He was the first that ever bore arms.
SECOND CLOWN. Why, he had none.
FIRST CLOWN. What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the
Scripture? The Scripture says Adam digg
d. Could he dig without arms?
ll put another question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the
purpose, confess thyself
SECOND CLOWN. Go to.
FIRST CLOWN. What is he that builds stronger than M
either the mason, the
shipwright, or the carpenter?
SECOND CLOWN. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand
FIRST CLOWN. I like thy wit well in good faith, the gallows does well.
But how does it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now, thou dost
ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church; argal, the
gallows may do well to thee. To
SECOND CLOWN. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a
FIRST CLOWN. Ay, tell me that, andM
SECOND CLOWN. Marry, now I can tell.
SECOND CLOWN. Mass, I cannot tell.
 Enter Hamlet and Horatio, at a distance.
FIRST CLOWN. Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will
not mend his pace with beating; and when you are asked this question
. The houses he makes last till doomsday. Go,
get thee to Yaughan; fetch me a stoup of liquor.
 [_Exit Second Clown._]
   In youth when I did love, did love, MM
ethought it was very sweet; To
   contract, O, the time for, a, my behove, O methought there was
HAMLET. Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at
HORATIO. Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
en so; the hand of little employment hath the daintier
FIRST CLOWN. [_Sings._] But age with his stealing steps Hath claw
in his clutch, And hath shipp
d me into the land, As if I had never
HAMLET. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the
knave jowls it to th
s jawbone, that did the
first murder! This might be the pate of a politician which this ass now
er-offices, one that would circumvent God, might it not?
HORATIO. It might, my lord.
HAMLET. Or of a courtier, which could say
Good morrow, sweet lord! How
dost thou, good lord?
 This might be my lord such-a-one, that praised
 meant to beg it, might it not?
HORATIO. Ay, my lord.
en so: and now my Lady Worm
s; chapless, and knocked
about the mazard with a sexton
s fine revolution, an we
had the trick to see
t. Did these bones cost no more the breeding but
to play at loggets with
em? Mine ache to think on
FIRST CLOWN. [_Sings._] A pickaxe and a spade, a spade, For and a
shrouding-sheet; O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is
 [_Throws up another skull._]
s another. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer?
Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and
his tricks? Why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock him about
the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of
battery? Hum. This fellow might be in
s time a great buyer of land,
with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,
his recoveries. Is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his
recoveries, to have hM
is fine pate full of fine dirt? Will his vouchers
vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the
length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his
lands will scarcely lie in this box; and must the inheritor himself
HORATIO. Not a jot more, my lord.
HAMLET. Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?
HORATIO. Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.
HAMLET. They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I
will speak to this fellow.
FIRST CLOWN. Mine, sir. [_Sings._] O, a pit of clay for to be made For
such a guest is meet.
HAMLET. I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in
FIRST CLOWN. You lie out on
t, sir, and therefore
my part, I do not lie in
HAMLET. Thou dost lie in
t and say it is thine.
the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.
Tis a quick lie, sir;
t will away again from me to you.
ET. What man dost thou dig it for?
FIRST CLOWN. For no man, sir.
HAMLET. What woman then?
FIRST CLOWN. For none neither.
HAMLET. Who is to be buried in
FIRST CLOWN. One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she
HAMLET. How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or
equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I
have taken note of it, the age is grown so picked that the toe of the
peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier he galls his kibeM
long hast thou been a grave-maker?
FIRST CLOWN. Of all the days i
HAMLET. How long is that since?
FIRST CLOWN. Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was the
very day that young Hamlet was born,
he that is mad, and sent into
HAMLET. Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
FIRST CLOWN. Why, because he was mad; he shall recover his wits there;
Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad
HAMLET. How came he mad?
FIRST CLOWN. Very strangely, they say.
HAMLET. How strangely?
FIRST CLOWN. Faith, e
en with losing his wits.
HAMLET. Upon what ground?
FIRST CLOWN. Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and
HAMLET. How long will a man lie i
FIRST CLOWN. Faith, if he be not rotten before he die,
cky corses nowadays that will scarce hold the laying in,
you some eight year or nine year. A tanner will last you nine year.
HAMLET. Why he more than another?
FIRST CLOWN. Why, sir, his hide is so tann
d with his trade that he
will keep out water a great while. And your water is a sore decayer of
your whoreson dead body. Here
s a skull now; this skull hath lain in
the earth three-and-twenty years.
HAMLET. Whose was it?
FIRST CLOWN. A whoreson, mad fellow
s it was. Whose do you tM
HAMLET. Nay, I know not.
FIRST CLOWN. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! A pour
Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick
HAMLET. Let me see. [_Takes the skull._] Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him,
Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my
imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hungM
d I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols?
your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table
on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chop-fallen?
Now get you to my lady
s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch
thick, to this favour she must come. Make her laugh at that.
Horatio, tell me one thing.
HAMLET. Dost thou think Alexander looked o
HAMLET. And smelt so? Pah!
 [_Throws down the skull._]
HAMLET. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not
imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping
Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.
HAMLET. No, faith, not a jot. But to follow him thither with modesty
enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus. Alexander died, Alexander
was buried, Alexander returneth into dusM
t; the dust is earth; of earth
we make loam; and why of that loam whereto he was converted might they
not stop a beer-barrel? Imperious Caesar, dead and turn
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. O, that that earth which kept
the world in awe Should patch a wall t
soft! but soft! aside! Here comes the King.
 Enter priests, &c, in procession; the corpse of Ophelia, Laertes and
 Mourners following; King, Queen, their Trains, &c.
The Queen, the courtiers. WhM
o is that they follow? And with such maimed
rites? This doth betoken The corse they follow did with desperate hand
Twas of some estate. Couch we awhile and mark.
 [_Retiring with Horatio._]
LAERTES. What ceremony else?
HAMLET. That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark.
LAERTES. What ceremony else?
PRIEST. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg
d As we have warranties.
Her death was doubtful; And but that great command o
She should in ground unsanctifiedM
d Till the last trumpet.
For charitable prayers, Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on
her. Yet here she is allowed her virgin rites, Her maiden strewments,
and the bringing home Of bell and burial.
LAERTES. Must there no more be done?
PRIEST. No more be done. We should profane the service of the dead To
sing sage requiem and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls.
earth, And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring. I tell thee, churliM
shall my sister be When thou liest howling.
HAMLET. What, the fair Ophelia?
QUEEN. [_Scattering flowers._] Sweets to the sweet. Farewell. I hop
thou shouldst have been my Hamlet
s wife; I thought thy bride-bed to
d, sweet maid, And not have strew
LAERTES. O, treble woe Fall ten times treble on that cursed head Whose
wicked deed thy most ingenious sense Depriv
d thee of. Hold off the
earth a while, Till I have caught her once more in mM
into the grave._] Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, Till of
this flat a mountain you have made, To o
ertop old Pelion or the skyish
head Of blue Olympus.
HAMLET. [_Advancing._] What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis?
whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wand
ring stars, and makes them
stand Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane. [_Leaps
LAERTES. [_Grappling with him._] The devil take thy soul!
 prythee take thy fingers from my
throat; For though I am not splenative and rash, Yet have I in me
something dangerous, Which let thy wiseness fear. Away thy hand!
KING. Pluck them asunder.
QUEEN. Hamlet! Hamlet!
HORATIO. Good my lord, be quiet.
 [_The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave._]
HAMLET. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme Until my eyelids
QUEEN. O my son, what theme?
d Ophelia; forty thousand brothersM
 Could not, with all
their quantity of love, Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
KING. O, he is mad, Laertes.
QUEEN. For love of God forbear him!
Swounds, show me what thou
t tear thyself? Woul
t drink up eisel? eat a
t. Dost thou come here to whine? To outface me with
leaping in her grave? Be buried quick with her, and so will I. And if
thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on M
our ground, Singeing his pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like
a wart. Nay, an thou
ll rant as well as thou.
QUEEN. This is mere madness: And thus awhile the fit will work on him;
Anon, as patient as the female dove, When that her golden couplets are
d, His silence will sit drooping.
HAMLET. Hear you, sir; What is the reason that you use me thus? I lov
you ever. But it is no matter. Let Hercules himself do what he may, The
cat will mew, and dog will have hiM
KING. I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.
[_To Laertes_] Strengthen your patience in our last night
ll put the matter to the present push.
 Good Gertrude, set some
watch over your son. This grave shall have a living monument. An hour
of quiet shortly shall we see; Till then in patience our proceeding be.
SCENE II. A hall in the Castle.
 Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
HAMLET. So much for this, sir. Now let me see the othM
remember all the circumstance?
HORATIO. Remember it, my lord!
HAMLET. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not
let me sleep. Methought I lay Worse than the mutinies in the bilboes.
d be rashness for it,
let us know, Our indiscretion
sometime serves us well, When our deep plots do pall; and that should
s a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we
HORATIO. That is most certain.
HAMLET. Up from my cabin, My sea-goM
d about me, in the dark
d I to find out them; had my desire, Finger
d their packet, and in
fine, withdrew To mine own room again, making so bold, My fears
forgetting manners, to unseal Their grand commission; where I found,
Horatio, Oh royal knavery! an exact command, Larded with many several
sorts of reasons, Importing Denmark
s health, and England
ho! such bugs and goblins in my life, That on the supervise, no leisure
bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, My heM
s the commission, read it at more leisure. But wilt thou
hear me how I did proceed?
HORATIO. I beseech you.
HAMLET. Being thus benetted round with villanies,
prologue to my brains, They had begun the play,
I sat me down, Devis
a new commission, wrote it fair: I once did hold it, as our statists
do, A baseness to write fair, and labour
d much How to forget that
learning; but, sir, now It did me yeoman
 service. Wilt thou know The
effect of what I wrote?
HORATIO. Ay, good my lord.
HAMLET. An earnest conjuration from the King, As England was his
faithful tributary, As love between them like the palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear And stand a comma
their amities, And many such-like
es of great charge, That on the
view and know of these contents, Without debatement further, more or
less, He should the bearers put to sudden death, Not shriving-time
HORATIO. How was this seal
HAMLET. Why, even in that was heaven ordinant. I had my father
in my purse, Which was the model of that Danish seal: Folded the writ
up in the form of the other, Subscrib
d it safely, The changeling never known. Now, the next day Was our
sea-fight, and what to this was sequent Thou know
HORATIO. So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to
HAMLET. Why, man, they did make love to this employment. They M
near my conscience; their defeat Does by their own insinuation grow.
Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes Between the pass and fell
incensed points Of mighty opposites.
HORATIO. Why, what a king is this!
HAMLET. Does it not, thinks
t thee, stand me now upon,
my hopes, Thrown out his angle for my proper life, And with such
t not perfect conscience To quit him with this arm? AnM
d To let this canker of our nature come In further
HORATIO. It must be shortly known to him from England What is the issue
of the business there.
HAMLET. It will be short. The interim is mine; And a man
. But I am very sorry, good Horatio, That to
Laertes I forgot myself; For by the image of my cause I see The
portraiture of his. I
ll court his favours. But sure the bravery of his
grief did put me Into a tow
HORATIO. Peace, who comes here?
OSRIC. Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
HAMLET. I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this waterfly?
HORATIO. No, my good lord.
HAMLET. Thy state is the more gracious; for
tis a vice to know him. He
hath much land, and fertile; let a beast be lord of beasts, and his
crib shall stand at the king
tis a chough; but, as I say,
spacious in the possession of dirt.
OSRIC. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should imM
thing to you from his Majesty.
HAMLET. I will receive it with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnet
OSRIC. I thank your lordship,
HAMLET. No, believe me,
tis very cold, the wind is northerly.
OSRIC. It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
HAMLET. Methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.
OSRIC. Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,
how. But, my lord, his Majesty bade me signify to M
you that he has laid
a great wager on your head. Sir, this is the matter,
HAMLET. I beseech you, remember,
 [_Hamlet moves him to put on his hat._]
OSRIC. Nay, in good faith; for mine ease, in good faith. Sir, here is
newly come to court Laertes; believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of
most excellent differences, of very soft society and great showing.
Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or calendar of
gentry; for you shall find in him the continent of what part a
HAMLET. Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know,
to divide him inventorially would dizzy th
arithmetic of memory, and
yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the verity
of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article and his infusion
of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his
semblable is his mirror and who else would trace him his umbrage,
OSRIC. Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
cernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the gentleman in our more
t not possible to understand in another tongue? You will
HAMLET. What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
HORATIO. His purse is empty already, all
s golden words are spent.
HAMLET. Of him, sir.
OSRIC. I know you are not ignorant,
HAMLET. I would you did, sir; yet in faith if you did, it would not
much approve me. Well, sir?
t ignorant of what excellence Laertes is,
HAMLET. I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in
excellence; but to know a man well were to know himself.
OSRIC. I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him,
by them in his meed he
OSRIC. Rapier and dagger.
s two of his weapons. But well.
OSRIC. The King, sir, hath wager
d with him six Barbary horses, against
the which he has imponed, as I take it, six M
poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so. Three of the
carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very responsive to the
hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit.
HAMLET. What call you the carriages?
HORATIO. I knew you must be edified by the margin ere you had done.
OSRIC. The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
HAMLET. The phrase would be more german to the matter if we could carry
cannon by our sides. I would it might be hangers till then. But M
Barbary horses against six French swords, their assigns, and three
liberal conceited carriages: that
s the French bet against the Danish.
Why is this all imponed, as you call it?
OSRIC. The King, sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes between you and
him, he shall not exceed you three hits. He hath laid on twelve for
nine. And it would come to immediate trial if your lordship would
vouchsafe the answer.
HAMLET. How if I answer no?
OSRIC. I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in triaM
HAMLET. Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his Majesty, it
is the breathing time of day with me. Let the foils be brought, the
gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose, I will win for him if
I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.
OSRIC. Shall I re-deliver you e
HAMLET. To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.
OSRIC. I commend my duty to your lordship.
HAMLET. Yours, yours.
He does well to commend iM
t himself, there are no tongues else for
HORATIO. This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
HAMLET. He did comply with his dug before he suck
and many more of the same bevy that I know the drossy age dotes
 only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter; a
kind of yeasty collection, which carries them through and through the
most fanned and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to their trial,
the bubbles are out,
 My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who
brings back to him that you attend him in the hall. He sends to know if
your pleasure hold to play with Laertes or that you will take longer
HAMLET. I am constant to my purposes, they follow the King
If his fitness speaks, mine is ready. Now or whensoever, provided I be
LORD. The King and Queen and all are coming down.
HAMLET. In happy time.
LORD. The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainmentM
before you fall to play.
HAMLET. She well instructs me.
HORATIO. You will lose this wager, my lord.
HAMLET. I do not think so. Since he went into France, I have been in
continual practice. I shall win at the odds. But thou wouldst not think
s here about my heart: but it is no matter.
HORATIO. Nay, good my lord.
HAMLET. It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as
would perhaps trouble a woman.
HORATIO. If your mind dislike anything, obM
ey it. I will forestall their
repair hither, and say you are not fit.
HAMLET. Not a whit, we defy augury. There
s a special providence in the
fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
tis not to come; if it be not to
come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness
is all. Since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is
 Enter King, Queen, Laertes, Lords, Osric and Attendants with foils &c.
KING. Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
HAMLET. Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you wrong; But pardon
as you are a gentleman. This presence knows, and you must needs have
heard, How I am punish
d with sore distraction. What I have done That
might your nature, honour, and exception Roughly awake, I here proclaim
d Laertes? Never Hamlet. If Hamlet from
en away, And when he
s not himself does wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet deniM
es it. Who does it, then? His
t be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong
madness is poor Hamlet
s enemy. Sir, in this audience, Let my
disclaiming from a purpos
d evil Free me so far in your most generous
thoughts That I have shot my arrow o
er the house And hurt my brother.
LAERTES. I am satisfied in nature, Whose motive in this case should
stir me most To my revenge. But in my terms of honour I stand aloof,
and will no reconcilement Till by some elder masters of known hoM
have a voice and precedent of peace To keep my name ungor
that time I do receive your offer
d love like love, And will not wrong
HAMLET. I embrace it freely, And will this brother
 Give us the foils; come on.
LAERTES. Come, one for me.
ll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance Your skill shall
 darkest night, Stick fiery off indeed.
LAERTES. You mock me, sir.
HAMLET. No, by this hand.
KING. Give them the M
foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet, You know the
HAMLET. Very well, my lord. Your Grace has laid the odds o
KING. I do not fear it. I have seen you both; But since he is better
we have therefore odds.
LAERTES. This is too heavy. Let me see another.
HAMLET. This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
 [_They prepare to play._]
OSRIC. Ay, my good lord.
KING. Set me the stoups of wine upon that table. If Hamlet give the
first or second hit, Or quit in answM
er of the third exchange, Let all
the battlements their ordnance fire; The King shall drink to Hamlet
better breath, And in the cup an union shall he throw Richer than that
which four successive kings In Denmark
s crown have worn. Give me the
cups; And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, The trumpet to the
cannoneer without, The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
Now the King drinks to Hamlet.
 Come, begin. And you, the judges, bear
HAMLET. Come on, sir.
OSRIC. A hit, a very palpable hit.
LAERTES. Well; again.
KING. Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine; Here
 [_Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within._]
ll play this bout first; set it by awhile.
Come. Another hit; what say you?
LAERTES. A touch, a touch, I do confess.
KING. Our son shall win.
t of breath. Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub
thy brows. The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
KING. Gertrude, do not drink.
QUEEN. I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me.
KING. [_Aside._] It is the poison
d cup; it is too late.
HAMLET. I dare not drink yet, madam. By and by.
QUEEN. Come, let me wipe thy face.
KING. I do not think
LAERTES. [_Aside._] And yet
gainst my conscience.
HAMLET. Come for thM
e third, Laertes. You do but dally. I pray you pass
with your best violence. I am afeard you make a wanton of me.
LAERTES. Say you so? Come on.
OSRIC. Nothing neither way.
LAERTES. Have at you now.
 [_Laertes wounds Hamlet; then, in scuffling, they change rapiers, and
 Hamlet wounds Laertes._]
KING. Part them; they are incens
HAMLET. Nay, come again!
 [_The Queen falls._]
OSRIC. Look to the Queen there, ho!
HORATIO. They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?
LAERTES. Why, as a woodcock to my own springe, Osric. I am justly
d with mine own treachery.
HAMLET. How does the Queen?
KING. She swoons to see them bleed.
QUEEN. No, no, the drink, the drink! O my dear Hamlet! The drink, the
HAMLET. O villany! Ho! Let the door be lock
d: Treachery! Seek it out.
LAERTES. It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain. No medicine in the
world can do thee good. In thM
ee there is not half an hour of life; The
treacherous instrument is in thy hand, Unbated and envenom
d itself on me. Lo, here I lie, Never to rise again.
d. I can no more. The King, the King
HAMLET. The point envenom
d too! Then, venom, to thy work.
 [_Stabs the King._]
OSRIC and LORDS. Treason! treason!
KING. O yet defend me, friends. I am but hurt.
HAMLET. Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this
ion. Is thy union here? Follow my mother.
LAERTES. He is justly serv
d. It is a poison temper
Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet. Mine and my father
come not upon thee, Nor thine on me.
HAMLET. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee. I am dead, Horatio.
Wretched Queen, adieu. You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
That are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time,
fell sergeant, death, Is strict in his arrM
O, I could tell you,
But let it be. Horatio, I am dead, Thou liv
st; report me and my cause
aright To the unsatisfied.
HORATIO. Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.
s yet some liquor left.
art a man, Give me the cup. Let go; by Heaven, I
t. O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus
unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy
reath in pain, To tell my story.
 [_March afar off, and shot within._]
What warlike noise is this?
OSRIC. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, To the
ambassadors of England gives This warlike volley.
HAMLET. O, I die, Horatio. The potent poison quite o
spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from England, But I do prophesy
election lights On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice. So tell him,
with the occurrents more and less, Which have solicited. The rest is
HORATIO. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And
flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. Why does the drum come hither?
 Enter Fortinbras, the English Ambassadors and others.
FORTINBRAS. Where is this sight?
HORATIO. What is it you would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease
FORTINBRAS. This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, What feast is
toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many princes at a shot So
bloodily hast struck?
FIRST AMBASSADOR. The sight is dismal; And our affairs from England
come too late. The ears are senseless that should give us hearing, To
tell him his commandment is fulfill
d, That Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern are dead. Where should we have our thanks?
HORATIO. Not from his mouth, Had it th
ability of life to thank you. He
never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this
bloody question, You from the Polack wars, and you from England Are
d, give order that these bodiM
es High on a stage be placed to
the view, And let me speak to th
 yet unknowing world How these things
came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts, Of
accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning
d cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall
 heads. All this can I Truly deliver.
FORTINBRAS. Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the
audience. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune. I have some rights
mory in this kingdom, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite
HORATIO. Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth
whose voice will draw on more. But let this same be presently
s minds are wild, lest more mischance On
plots and errors happen.
FORTINBRAS. Let four captains Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage,
For he was likely, had he been put on, To have prov
for his passage, The soldiers
 music and the rites of war Speak lM
for him. Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this Becomes the field,
but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
 [_Exeunt, bearing off the bodies, after which a peal of ordnance is
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
God likes elephants, and I like elephants.
text/plain;charset=utf-8
Stacks Punk 142 by bmartphdh!
text/plain;charset=utf-8
by William Shakespeare
                    1
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
s flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
in thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak
st waste in niggarding:
  Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
s due, by the grave and thee.
                    2
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty
s proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tattered weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunkM
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv
If thou couldst answer
This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,
Proving his beauty by succession thine.
  This were to be new made when thou art old,
  And see thy blood warm when thou feel
                    3
Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not reM
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love to stop posterity?
s glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime,
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
  But if thou live remembered not to be,
  Die single and thine image dies with thee.
                    4
Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend,
Upon thyself thy beauty
s bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free:
Then beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse,
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive,
Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
y unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
  Which used lives th
                    5
Those hours that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
Will play the tyrants to the very same,
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there,
Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer
uid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
s effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.
  But flowers distilled though they with winter meet,
  Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.
                    6
s ragged hand deface,
In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place,
s treasure ere it be self-killed:
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the wM
s for thyself to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier be it ten for one,
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
  Be not self-willed for thou art much too fair,
s conquest and make worms thine heir.
                    7
Lo in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-apM
Serving with looks his sacred majesty,
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch with weary car,
Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
The eyes (fore duteous) now converted are
From his low tract and look another way:
  So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon:
  Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.
                    8
st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
st thou that which thou receiv
st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:
Mark how one string sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
 all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
  Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
  Sings this to thee,
Thou single wilt prove none
                    9
Is it for fear to wet a widow
st thyself in single life?
Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee like a makeless wife,
The world will be thy widow and still weep,
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep,
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
s waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it:
  No love toward others in that bosom sits
  That on himself such murd
                    10
For shame deny that thou bear
Who for thyself art so unprovident.
Grant if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov
u art so possessed with murd
gainst thyself thou stick
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire:
O change thy thought, that I may change my mind,
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be as thy presence is gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove,
  Make thee another self for love of me,
  That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
                    11
As fast as thou shalt wane so faM
In one of thine, from that which thou departest,
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow
Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
Without this folly, age, and cold decay,
If all were minded so, the times should cease,
And threescore year would make the world away:
Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
Look whom she best endowed, she gave thee more;
ous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
  She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
  Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.
                    12
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd
s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white anM
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
And die as fast as they see others grow,
s scythe can make defence
  Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.
                    13
O that you were your self, but love you are
No longer yours, than you yourself here live,
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
o should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination, then you were
Yourself again after yourself
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
Against the stormy gusts of winter
And barren rage of death
  O none but unthrifts, dear my love you know,
  You had a father, let your son say so.
                    14
Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck,
et methinks I have astronomy,
But not to tell of good, or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell;
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find.
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And constant stars in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert:
  Or else of thee this I prognosticate,
                    15
When I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment.
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment.
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky:
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory.
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay,
Sets you most rich in youth before my sM
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night,
  And all in war with Time for love of you,
  As he takes from you, I engraft you new.
                    16
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time?
And fortify yourself in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
an your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair
s pencil) or my pupil pen
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.
  To give away yourself, keeps yourself still,
  And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.
                    17
Who will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half yourM
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say this poet lies,
Such heavenly touches ne
er touched earthly faces.
So should my papers (yellowed with their age)
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet
And stretched metre of an antique song.
  But were some child of yours alive that time,
  You should live twice,
in it, and in my rhyme.
                    18
l I compare thee to a summer
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature
s changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow
Nor shall death brag thou wand
nes to time thou grow
  So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
  So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
                    19
Devouring Time blunt thou the lion
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood,
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger
And burn the long-lived phoenix, in her blood,
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet
er thou wilt swift-footed Time
To the wide world and all her fading sweets:
But I forbid thee one moM
O carve not with thy hours my love
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen,
Him in thy course untainted do allow,
s pattern to succeeding men.
  Yet do thy worst, old Time; despite thy wrong,
  My love shall in my verse ever live young.
                    20
Hast thou the master mistress of my passion,
s gentle heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
  But since she pricked thee out for women
  Mine be thy love and thy love
s use their treasure.
                    21
s it not with me as with that muse,
Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven it self for ornament doth use,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea
s first-born flowers and all things rare,
s air in this huge rondure hems.
O let me true in love but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair,
s child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fixedM
  Let them say more that like of hearsay well,
  I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
                    22
My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date,
But when in thee time
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me,
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O therefore love be of thyselM
As I not for my self, but for thee will,
Bearing thy heart which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
  Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain,
st me thine not to give back again.
                    23
As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I for fear of trust, forget to say,
The perfect ceremony of loM
And in mine own love
s strength seem to decay,
ercharged with burthen of mine own love
O let my looks be then the eloquence,
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
  O learn to read what silent love hath writ,
  To hear with eyes belongs to love
                    24
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
s form in table of my heaM
My body is the frame wherein
And perspective it is best painter
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
s shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes:
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done,
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
  Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their arM
  They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
                    25
Let those who are in favour with their stars,
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I whom fortune of such triumph bars
Unlooked for joy in that I honour most;
 favourites their fair leaves spread,
But as the marigold at the sun
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiledM
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
  Then happy I that love and am beloved
  Where I may not remove nor be removed.
                    26
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit;
To thee I send this written embassage
To witness duty, not to show my wit.
Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it;
But that I hope some good conceit of thine
ll naked) will bestow it:
Till whatsoever star that guides my moving,
Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts apparel on my tattered loving,
To show me worthy of thy sweet respect,
  Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee,
  Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.
                    27
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tired,
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body
thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see.
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which like a jewel (hung in ghastly night)
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
  Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
  For thee, and for my self, no quiet find.
                    28
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the beM
s oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night and night by day oppressed.
And each (though enemies to either
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild
  But day doth daily draw my sorrowM
  And night doth nightly make grief
s length seem stronger
                    29
When in disgrace with fortune and men
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon my self and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
aply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven
  For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
  That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
                    30
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought,
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time
Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow)
For precious friends hiM
And weep afresh love
s long since cancelled woe,
 expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
  But if the while I think on thee (dear friend)
  All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
                    31
Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
Which I by lacking have supposed dead,
And all those friends which I thought buried.
How many a holy and obsequious tear
Hath dear religious love stol
As interest of the dead, which now appear,
But things removed that hidden in thee lie.
Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
That due of many, now is thine alone.
  Their images I loved, I view in thee,
  And thou, all they, hast all the all of mM
                    32
If thou survive my well-contented day,
When that churl death my bones with dust shall cover
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover:
Compare them with the bett
And though they be outstripped by every pen,
Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,
Exceeded by the height of happier men.
O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought,
s Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than M
this his love had brought
To march in ranks of better equipage:
  But since he died and poets better prove,
  Theirs for their style I
ll read, his for his love
                    33
Full many a glorious morning have I seen,
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green;
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy:
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide
to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow,
But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
  Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth,
  Suns of the world may stain, when heaven
                    34
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o
ertake me in my way,
ry in their rotten smokM
Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak,
That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief,
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss,
s sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence
  Ah but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
  And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
                    35
more be grieved at that which thou hast done,
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud,
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
My self corrupting salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are:
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense;
Thy adverse party is thy advocate,
gainst my self a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate,
t I an accessary needs must be,
  To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
                    36
Let me confess that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a separable spite,
Which though it alter not love
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
led guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
  But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
  As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
                    37
As a decrepit father takes delight,
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more
Entitled in thy partsM
I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,
That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
And by a part of all thy glory live:
  Look what is best, that best I wish in thee,
  This wish I have, then ten times happy me.
                    38
How can my muse want subject to invent
While thou dost breathe that pour
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent,
For every vulgar paper to reM
O give thyself the thanks if aught in me,
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
s so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate,
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
  If my slight muse do please these curious days,
  The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
                    39
O how thy worth witM
h manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring:
t but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give:
That due to thee which thou deserv
O absence what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive.
  And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
  By praising him here who doth hence remain.
                    40
Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all,
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call,
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more:
Then if for my love, thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest,
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
thy robbery gentle thief
Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
And yet love knows it is a greater grief
To bear greater wrong, than hate
  Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
  Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.
                    41
Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits,
For still temptation follows where thou art.
Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
hou art, therefore to be assailed.
And when a woman woos, what woman
Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
  Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
  Thine by thy beauty being false to me.
                    42
That thou hast her it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
e hath thee is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye,
Thou dost love her, because thou know
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
ring my friend for my sake to approve her.
If I lose thee, my loss is my love
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss,
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross,
s the joy, my friend and I are one,
ttery, then she loves but me alone.
                    43
When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected,
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright
How would thy shadow
s form, form happy show,
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made,
By looking on thee in the liM
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade,
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
  All days are nights to see till I see thee,
  And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
                    44
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way,
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay,
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee,
ble thought can jump both sea and land,
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that so much of earth and water wrought,
s leisure with my moan.
  Receiving nought by elements so slow,
  But heavy tears, badges of either
                    45
The other two, slight air, and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide,
The first my thought, the other my deM
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
For when these quicker elements are gone
In tender embassy of love to thee,
My life being made of four, with two alone,
Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy.
s composition be recured,
By those swift messengers returned from thee,
Who even but now come back again assured,
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me.
  This told, I joy, but then no longer glad,
  I send them back again and straight grow sad.
                    46
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight,
Mine eye, my heart thy picture
My heart, mine eye the freedom of that right,
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes;
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To side this title is impanelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart,
And by their verdict is determined
s moiety, and the dear heaM
s due is thy outward part,
s right, thy inward love of heart.
                    47
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other,
When that mine eye is famished for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother;
s picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart:
Another time mine eye is my heart
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.
So either by thy picture or my love,
Thyself away, art present still with me,
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee.
  Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
  Awakes my heart, to heart
                    48
How careful was I when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might unused stay
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
st worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not locked up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part,
  And even thence thou wilt be stol
  For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
                    49
Against that time (if ever that time come)
When I shall see thee frown on my deM
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Called to that audit by advised respects,
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
And scarcely greet me with that sun thine eye,
When love converted from the thing it was
Shall reasons find of settled gravity;
Against that time do I ensconce me here
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand, against my self uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part,
  To leave poor me, thou hast the strength of laws,
  Since why to love, IM
 can allege no cause.
                    50
How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek (my weary travel
Doth teach that case and that repose to say
Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed being made from thee:
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on,
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
Which heavily he anM
More sharp to me than spurring to his side,
  For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
  My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
                    51
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence,
Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed,
From where thou art, why should I haste me thence?
Till I return of posting is no need.
O what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur though mounted on the wind,
In winged speed no moM
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace,
Therefore desire (of perfect
Shall neigh no dull flesh in his fiery race,
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade:
  Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow,
ll run, and give him leave to go.
                    52
So am I as the rich whose blessed key,
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since seldom coming in that long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special-blest,
By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
  Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope,
  Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope.
                    53
What is your substance, whereof are you made,
hat millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
And you but one, can every shadow lend:
Describe Adonis and the counterfeit,
Is poorly imitated after you,
s cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear,
And you in every blessed shape we know.
  In all external grace you have some part,
  But you like none,M
 none you for constant heart.
                    54
O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour, which doth in it live:
The canker blooms have full as deep a dye,
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly,
s breath their masked buds discloses:
But for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,
elves. Sweet roses do not so,
Of their sweet deaths, are sweetest odours made:
  And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
  When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.
                    55
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor war
The living record of your memory.
Gainst death, and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth, your praise shall still find room,
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
  So till the judgment that yourself arise,
  You live in this, and dwell in lovers
                    56
Sweet love renew thy force, be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allayed,
To-morrow sharpened in his forM
So love be thou, although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love, with a perpetual dulness:
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new,
Come daily to the banks, that when they see:
Return of love, more blest may be the view.
  Or call it winter, which being full of care,
s welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.
                    57
ur slave what should I do but tend,
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I (my sovereign) watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu.
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But like a sad slave stay and think of nought
Save where you are, how happy you make tM
  So true a fool is love, that in your will,
  (Though you do any thing) he thinks no ill.
                    58
That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
 account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
O let me suffer (being at your beck)
 imprisoned absence of your liberty,
And patience tame to sufferance bide each check,
Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your chaM
That you yourself may privilage your time
To what you will, to you it doth belong,
Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
  I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
  Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.
                    59
If there be nothing new, but that which is,
Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
Which labouring for invention bear amis
The second burthen of a former child!
O that record could with a backward look,
Even of five hundred courses of the suM
Show me your image in some antique book,
Since mind at first in character was done.
That I might see what the old world could say,
To this composed wonder of your frame,
Whether we are mended, or whether better they,
Or whether revolution be the same.
  O sure I am the wits of former days,
  To subjects worse have given admiring praise.
                    60
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before,M
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty
Feeds on the rarities of nature
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
  And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand
  Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
O no, thy love though much, is not so great,
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever forM
  For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
  From me far off, with others all too near.
                    62
Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,
And all my soul, and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account,
And for my self mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me my self indeed
ed and chopt with tanned antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read:
Self, so self-loving were iniquity.
Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
  Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
                    63
Against my love shall be as I am now
s injurious hand crushed and o
When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow
With lines and wrinkles, when his youthful morn
Hath travelled on to age
And all those beauties whereof now he
Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring:
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age
That he shall never cut from memory
s beauty, though my lover
  His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
  And they shall live, and he in them still green.
                    64
When I have seen by Time
The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age,
When sometime lofty towers I see dowM
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage.
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the watery main,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store.
When I have seen such interchange of State,
Or state it self confounded, to decay,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate:
That Time will come and take my love away.
  This thought is as a death which cannot choose
  But weep to have, that which it fears to lose.
                    65
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
s honey breath hold out,
Against the wrackful siege of batt
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong but time decays?
O fearful meditation, where alack,
s best jewel from Time
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
r who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
  O none, unless this miracle have might,
  That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
                    66
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry:
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authM
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill.
  Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
  Save that to die, I leave my love alone.
                    67
Ah wherefore with infection should he live,
And with his presence grace impiety,
That sin by him advantage should achieve,
And lace it self with his society?
Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
And steal dead seeming of his living hue?
d poor beauty indirectly seek,
Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
Why should he live, now nature bankrupt is,
Beggared of blood to blush through lively veins,
For she hath no exchequer now but his,
And proud of many, lives upon his gains?
  O him she stores, to show what wealth she had,
  In days long since, before these last so bad.
                    68
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
 durst inhabit on a living brow:
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
To live a second life on second head,
s dead fleece made another gay:
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
Without all ornament, it self and true,
Making no summer of another
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new,
  And him as for a map doth Nature store,
  To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
                    69
Those parts of thee that the worldM
Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend:
All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned,
But those same tongues that give thee so thine own,
In other accents do this praise confound
By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
They look into the beauty of thy mind,
And that in guess they measure by thy deeds,
Then churls their thoughts (although their eyes were kind)
flower add the rank smell of weeds:
  But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
  The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.
                    70
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
s mark was ever yet the fair,
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven
So thou be good, slander doth but approve,
Thy worth the greater being wooed of time,
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
st a pure unstained prime.
 hast passed by the ambush of young days,
Either not assailed, or victor being charged,
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy, evermore enlarged,
  If some suspect of ill masked not thy show,
  Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
                    71
No longer mourn for me when I am dead,
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay if you read this line, remember not,
e hand that writ it, for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O if, I say, you look upon this verse,
When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;
But let your love even with my life decay.
  Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
  And mock you with me after I am gone.
                    72
O lest the world should task you to recite,
What merit lived in me that you should love
 my death, dear love, forget me quite,
For you in me can nothing worthy prove.
Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
To do more for me than mine own desert,
And hang more praise upon deceased I,
Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
O lest your true love may seem false in this,
That you for love speak well of me untrue,
My name be buried where my body is,
And live no more to shame nor me, nor you.
  For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
  And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
                    73
That time of year thou mayst in me behold,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day,
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
s second self that seals up all in rest.
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must eM
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
st, which makes thy love more strong,
  To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
                    74
But be contented when that fell arrest,
Without all bail shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest,
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review,
The very part was consecrate to thee,
The earth can have but earth, which is his due,
e the better part of me,
So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
The prey of worms, my body being dead,
The coward conquest of a wretch
Too base of thee to be remembered,
  The worth of that, is that which it contains,
  And that is this, and this with thee remains.
                    75
So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
twixt a miser and his wealth is found.
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure,
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,
And by and by clean starved for a look,
Possessing or pursuing no delight
Save what is had, or must from you be took.
  Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
  Or gluttoning on all, or all away.
                    76
Why is my verse so barren of new pride?
So far from variation or quick changM
Why with the time do I not glance aside
To new-found methods, and to compounds strange?
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep invention in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
O know sweet love I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument:
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent:
  For as the sun is daily new and old,
  So is my love still telling what is told.
                    77
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
These vacant leaves thy mind
s imprint will bear,
And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory,
s shady stealth mayst know,
s thievish progress to eternity.
Look what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, delivereM
To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
  These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
  Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.
                    78
So oft have I invoked thee for my muse,
And found such fair assistance in my verse,
As every alien pen hath got my use,
And under thee their poesy disperse.
Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,
And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
Have added feathers to the learned
And given grace a double majesty.
t proud of that which I compile,
Whose influence is thine, and born of thee,
 works thou dost but mend the style,
And arts with thy sweet graces graced be.
  But thou art all my art, and dost advance
  As high as learning, my rude ignorance.
                    79
Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,
But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
And my sick muse doth give an other place.
I grant (sweet love) thy lovely argument
Deserves the travail M
Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent,
He robs thee of, and pays it thee again,
He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word,
From thy behaviour, beauty doth he give
And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.
  Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
  Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.
                    80
O how I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
And in the praise thereofM
 spends all his might,
To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
But since your wort, wide as the ocean is,
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
My saucy bark (inferior far to his)
On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride,
Or (being wrecked) I am a worthless boat,
He of tall building, and of goodly pride.
  Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
  The worst was this: my love was my decay.
Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive when I in earth am rotten,
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I (once gone) to all the world must die,
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombed in men
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o
And tongues to be, your being shall rehearse,
eathers of this world are dead,
  You still shall live, such virtue hath my pen,
  Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
                    82
I grant thou wert not married to my muse,
And therefore mayst without attaint o
The dedicated words which writers use
Of their fair subject, blessing every book.
Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
Finding thy worth a limit past my praise,
And therefore art enforced to seek anew,
Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.
And do so love, yet when they have devised,
What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
Thou truly fair, wert truly sympathized,
In true plain words, by thy true-telling friend.
  And their gross painting might be better used,
  Where cheeks need blood, in thee it is abused.
                    83
I never saw that you did painting need,
And therefore to your fair no painting set,
I found (or thought I found) you did exceed,
That barren tender of a poet
And therefore have I slept in your repM
That you yourself being extant well might show,
How far a modern quill doth come too short,
Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
This silence for my sin you did impute,
Which shall be most my glory being dumb,
For I impair not beauty being mute,
When others would give life, and bring a tomb.
  There lives more life in one of your fair eyes,
  Than both your poets can in praise devise.
                    84
Who is it that says most, which can say more,
Than this rich praise: that yM
In whose confine immured is the store,
Which should example where your equal grew.
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell,
That to his subject lends not some small glory,
But he that writes of you, if he can tell,
That you are you, so dignifies his story.
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
Making his style admired every where.
  You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
  Being fond on praise, M
which makes your praises worse.
                    85
My tongue-tied muse in manners holds her still,
While comments of your praise richly compiled,
Reserve their character with golden quill,
And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words,
And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen,
To every hymn that able spirit affords,
In polished form of well refined pen.
Hearing you praised, I say
And to the most of praise add something mM
But that is in my thought, whose love to you
(Though words come hindmost) holds his rank before,
  Then others, for the breath of words respect,
  Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
                    86
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
Bound for the prize of (all too precious) you,
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write,
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
neither he, nor his compeers by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
He nor that affable familiar ghost
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
As victors of my silence cannot boast,
I was not sick of any fear from thence.
  But when your countenance filled up his line,
  Then lacked I matter, that enfeebled mine.
                    87
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
e are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me to whom thou gav
st it, else mistaking,
So thy great gift upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
  Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
  In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
                    88M
When thou shalt be disposed to set me light,
And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
Upon thy side, against my self I
And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn:
With mine own weakness being best acquainted,
Upon thy part I can set down a story
Of faults concealed, wherein I am attainted:
That thou in losing me, shalt win much glory:
And I by this will be a gainer too,
For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
The injuries that to my self I do,
Doing thee vantage, double-vantage M
  Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
  That for thy right, my self will bear all wrong.
                    89
Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence,
Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt:
Against thy reasons making no defence.
Thou canst not (love) disgrace me half so ill,
To set a form upon desired change,
ll my self disgrace, knowing thy will,
I will acquaintance strangle and look strange:
Be absent from thy walks and in my toM
Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
Lest I (too much profane) should do it wronk:
And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
  For thee, against my self I
er love him whom thou dost hate.
                    90
Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah do not, when my heart hath
Come in the rearwarM
d of a conquered woe,
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come, so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune
  And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
  Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.
                    91
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body
their garments though new-fangled ill:
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse.
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest,
But these particulars are not my measure,
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments
Of more delight than hawks and horses be:
And having thee, of all men
  Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take,
  All this away, and M
me most wretchcd make.
                    92
But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
For term of life thou art assured mine,
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end,
I see, a better state to me belongs
Than that, which on thy humour doth depend.
Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie,
O what a happy title do I find,
py to have thy love, happy to die!
s so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
  Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
                    93
So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceived husband, so love
May still seem love to me, though altered new:
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.
For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change,
s looks, the false heart
Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkM
But heaven in thy creation did decree,
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell,
er thy thoughts, or thy heart
Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
s apple doth thy beauty grow,
  If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show.
                    94
They that have power to hurt, and will do none,
That do not do the thing, they most do show,
Who moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
ightly do inherit heaven
s riches from expense,
Tibey are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others, but stewards of their excellence:
s flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to it self, it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
  For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds,
  Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.
                    95
How sweet and lovely dost thou make thM
Which like a canker in the fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
O in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
(Making lascivious comments on thy sport)
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise,
Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
O what a mansion have those vices got,
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
s veil doth cover every blot,
And all things turns to fair, that eyes can see!
  Take heed (dear heartM
) of this large privilege,
  The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
                    96
Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness,
Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport,
Both grace and faults are loved of more and less:
st faults graces, that to thee resort:
As on the finger of a throned queen,
The basest jewel will be well esteemed:
So are those errors that in thee are seen,
To truths translated, and for true things deemed.
How many lambs might the stern wolf betrayM
If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
if thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
  But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
  As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
                    97
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
s bareness everywhere!
And yet this time removed was summer
The teeming autumn big withM
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widowed wombs after their lords
Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit,
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And thou away, the very birds are mute.
tis with so dull a cheer,
  That leaves look pale, dreading the winter
                    98
From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April (dressed in all his trim)
 of youth in every thing:
That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
Could make me any summer
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose,
They were but sweet, but figures of delight:
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
  Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
  As with your shadow I with these did M
                    99
The forward violet thus did I chide,
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
s breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft check for complexion dwells,
s veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair:
A third nor red, nor white, had stol
 had annexed thy breath,
But for his theft in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
  More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
  But sweet, or colour it had stol
                    100
Where art thou Muse that thou forget
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
In gentle numbers time so idly sM
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem,
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise resty Muse, my love
s sweet face survey,
If time have any wrinkle graven there,
If any, be a satire to decay,
s spoils despised everywhere.
  Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life,
st his scythe, and crooked knife.
                    101
O truant Muse what shall be thy amends,
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depenM
So dost thou too, and therein dignified:
Make answer Muse, wilt thou not haply say,
Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
Beauty no pencil, beauty
But best is best, if never intermixed
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so, for
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb:
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
  Then do thy office Muse, I teach thee how,
  To make him seem long hence, as he shows now.
                    1M
My love is strengthened though more weak in seeming,
I love not less, though less the show appear,
That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming,
s tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays,
As Philomel in summer
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
nd sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
  Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
  Because I would not dull you with my song.
                    103
Alack what poverty my muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside.
O blame me not if I no more can write!
Look in your glass and there appears a face,
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
 it not sinful then striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other pass my verses tend,
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell.
  And more, much more than in my verse can sit,
  Your own glass shows you, when you look in it.
                    104
To me fair friend you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still: three winters cold,
Have from the forests shook three summers
Three beauteous springs to yellow auM
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh which yet are green.
Ah yet doth beauty like a dial hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived,
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived.
  For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred,
  Ere you were born was beauty
                    105
Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as anM
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence,
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words,
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
  Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
 now, never kept seat in one.
                    106
When in the chronicle of wasted time,
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme,
In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
Then in the blazon of sweet beauty
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed,
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring,
And for they looked but with divM
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
  For we which now behold these present days,
  Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
                    107
Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul,
Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage,
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims M
olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time,
My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes,
Since spite of him I
ll live in this poor rhyme,
er dull and speechless tribes.
  And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
 crests and tombs of brass are spent.
                    108
s in the brain that ink may character,
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit,
s new to speak, what now to register,
That may express my lovM
e, or thy dear merit?
Nothing sweet boy, but yet like prayers divine,
I must each day say o
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page,
  Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
  Where time and outward form would show it dead.
                    109
t I was false of heart,
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify,
As easy might I from my self depart,
As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love, if I have ranged,
Like him that travels I return again,
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that my self bring water for my stain,
Never believe though in my nature reigned,
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained,
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good:
g this wide universe I call,
  Save thou my rose, in it thou art my all.
                    110
tis true, I have gone here and there,
And made my self a motley to the view,
Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
Made old offences of affections new.
Most true it is, that I have looked on truth
Askance and strangely: but by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
Now all is done, have what shall have no end,
ppetite I never more will grind
On newer proof, to try an older friend,
A god in love, to whom I am confined.
  Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
  Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
                    111
O for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide,
Than public means which public manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdued
Pity me then, and wish I were renewed,
Whilst like a willing patient I will drink,
gainst my strong infection,
No bitterness that I will bitter think,
Nor double penance to correct correction.
  Pity me then dear friend, and I assure ye,
  Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
                    112
Your love and pity doth th
Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow,
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
reen my bad, my good allow?
You are my all the world, and I must strive,
To know my shames and praises from your tongue,
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeled sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
 voices, that my adder
To critic and to flatterer stopped are:
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense.
  You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
  That all the world besides methinks are dead.
                    113
, mine eye is in my mind,
And that which governs me to go about,
Doth part his function, and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out:
For it no form delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch,
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch:
For if it see the rud
st or gentlest sight,
The most sweet favour or deformed
The mountain, or the sea, the day, or night:
The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feaM
  Incapable of more, replete with you,
  My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.
                    114
Or whether doth my mind being crowned with you
Drink up the monarch
s plague this flattery?
Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true,
And that your love taught it this alchemy?
To make of monsters, and things indigest,
Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
Creating every bad a perfect best
As fast as objects to his beams assemble:
tis flattery in my seeM
And my great mind most kingly drinks it up,
Mine eye well knows what with his gust is
And to his palate doth prepare the cup.
  If it be poisoned,
  That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.
                    115
Those lines that I before have writ do lie,
Even those that said I could not love you dearer,
Yet then my judgment knew no reason why,
My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer,
But reckoning time, whose millioned accidents
twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,
Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp
Divert strong minds to the course of alt
Alas why fearing of time
Might I not then say
Now I love you best,
When I was certain o
Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?
  Love is a babe, then might I not say so
  To give full growth to that which still doth grow.
                    116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, love is nM
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand
s unknown, although his height be taken.
s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
  If this be error and upon me proved,
  I never writ, nor noM
                    117
Accuse me thus, that I have scanted all,
Wherein I should your great deserts repay,
Forgot upon your dearest love to call,
Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day,
That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
And given to time your own dear-purchased right,
That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
Which should transport me farthest from your sight.
Book both my wilfulness and errors down,
And on just proof surmise, accumulate,
Bring me within the level of M
But shoot not at me in your wakened hate:
  Since my appeal says I did strive to prove
  The constancy and virtue of your love.
                    118
Like as to make our appetite more keen
With eager compounds we our palate urge,
As to prevent our maladies unseen,
We sicken to shun sickness when we purge.
Even so being full of your ne
er-cloying sweetness,
To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding;
And sick of welfare found a kind of meetness,
To be diseased ere that there was true nM
Thus policy in love t
The ills that were not, grew to faults assured,
And brought to medicine a healthful state
Which rank of goodness would by ill be cured.
  But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
  Drugs poison him that so feil sick of you.
                    119
What potions have I drunk of Siren tears
Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
Still losing when I saw my self to win!
What wretched errors hath my heart M
Whilst it hath thought it self so blessed never!
How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted
In the distraction of this madding fever!
O benefit of ill, now I find true
That better is, by evil still made better.
And ruined love when it is built anew
Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
  So I return rebuked to my content,
  And gain by ills thrice more than I have spent.
                    120
That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, whiM
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken
have passed a hell of time,
And I a tyrant have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me then tendered
The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!
  But that your trespass now becomes a fee,
ansoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
                    121
Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
When not to be, receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed,
Not by our feeling, but by others
For why should others
 false adulterate eyes
Give salutation to my sportive blood?
Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
No, I am that I am, and they that level
At my abuses, reckon up their own,
y be straight though they themselves be bevel;
By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown
  Unless this general evil they maintain,
  All men are bad and in their badness reign.
                    122
Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
Full charactered with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain
Beyond all date even to eternity.
Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
Have faculty by nature to subsist,
Till each to razed oblivion yield his part
ord never can be missed:
That poor retention could not so much hold,
Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score,
Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
To trust those tables that receive thee more:
  To keep an adjunct to remember thee
  Were to import forgetfulness in me.
                    123
No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change,
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange,
They are but dressings Of a former sight:
Our dates are brief, and therM
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
And rather make them born to our desire,
Than think that we before have heard them told:
Thy registers and thee I both defy,
ring at the present, nor the past,
For thy records, and what we see doth lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste:
  This I do vow and this shall ever be,
  I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.
                    124
If my dear love were but the child of state,
It might for Fortune
Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered.
No it was builded far from accident,
It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls
Under the blow of thralled discontent,
 inviting time our fashion calls:
It fears not policy that heretic,
Which works on leases of short-numbered hours,
But all alone stands hugely politic,
That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with showers.
  To this I witness call the fools of time,
ie for goodness, who have lived for crime.
                    125
t aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
Lose all, and more by paying too much rent
For compound sweet; forgoing simple savour,
Pitiful thrivers in their gazing spent?
No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,
And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
Which is not mixed with M
seconds, knows no art,
But mutual render, only me for thee.
  Hence, thou suborned informer, a true soul
  When most impeached, stands least in thy control.
                    126
O thou my lovely boy who in thy power,
s fickle glass his fickle hour:
Who hast by waning grown, and therein show
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow
If Nature (sovereign mistress over wrack)
As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back,
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her sM
May time disgrace, and wretched minutes kill.
Yet fear her O thou minion of her pleasure,
She may detain, but not still keep her treasure!
  Her audit (though delayed) answered must be,
  And her quietus is to render thee.
                    127
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were it bore not beauty
But now is black beauty
And beauty slandered with a bastard shame,
For since each hand hath put on nature
Fairing the foul with art
s false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name no holy bower,
But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress
 eyes are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem,
At such who not born fair no beauty lack,
Slandering creation with a false esteem,
  Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
  That every tongue says beauty should look so.
                    128
How oft when thou, my music, music play
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
fingers when thou gently sway
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,
s boldness by thee blushing stand.
To be so tickled they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blest than living lips,
  Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
  Give them thy fingers, me thM
                    129
 expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action, and till action, lust
rous, bloody full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait,
On purpose laid to make the taker mad.
Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
Had, having, and in quest, to have extreme,
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
re a joy proposed behind a dream.
  All this the world well knows yet none knows well,
  To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
                    130
 eyes are nothing like the sun,
Coral is far more red, than her lips red,
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun:
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head:
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight,
Than in the breath that from myM
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
  And yet by heaven I think my love as rare,
  As any she belied with false compare.
                    131
Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Yet in good faith some saM
Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
To say they err, I dare not be so bold,
Although I swear it to my self alone.
And to be sure that is not false I swear,
A thousand groans but thinking on thy face,
s neck do witness bear
Thy black is fairest in my judgment
  In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
  And thence this slander as I think proceeds.
                    132
Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart tormM
ent me with disdain,
Have put on black, and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even
Doth half that glory to the sober west
As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
O let it then as well beseem thy heart
To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,
And suit thy pity like in every part.
  Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
  And all they foul that M
thy complexion lack.
                    133
Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
t not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet
Me from my self thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed,
Of him, my self, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice three-fold thus to be crossed:
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom
s heart let my poor heart bail,M
er keeps me, let my heart be his guard,
Thou canst not then use rigour in my gaol.
  And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
  Perforce am thine and all that is in me.
                    134
So now I have confessed that he is thine,
And I my self am mortgaged to thy will,
ll forfeit, so that other mine,
Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
For thou art covetous, and he is kind,
He learned but surety-like to write for me,
nder that bond that him as fist doth bind.
The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
Thou usurer that put
st forth all to use,
And sue a friend, came debtor for my sake,
So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
  Him have I lost, thou hast both him and me,
  He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.
                    135
Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will,
And Will to boot, and Will in overplus,
More than enough am I that vex thee still,
To thy sweet will making addition thus.
hose will is large and spacious,
Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
Shall will in others seem right gracious,
And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
The sea all water, yet receives rain still,
And in abundance addeth to his store,
So thou being rich in will add to thy will
One will of mine to make thy large will more.
  Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill,
  Think all but one, and me in that one Will.
                    136
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
lind soul that I was thy Will,
And will thy soul knows is admitted there,
Thus far for love, my love-suit sweet fulfil.
Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one,
In things of great receipt with case we prove,
Among a number one is reckoned none.
Then in the number let me pass untold,
s account I one must be,
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold,
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee.
  Make but my name thy love, and love thaM
st me for my name is Will.
                    137
Thou blind fool Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
That they behold and see not what they see?
They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
Yet what the best is, take the worst to be.
If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks,
Be anchored in the bay where all men ride,
 falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
Why should my heart think that a several plot,
Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not
To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
  In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,
  And to this false plague are they now transferred.
                    138
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days aM
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue,
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told.
  Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
  And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
                    139
O call not me to justify the wrong,
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart,
Wound me not with thine eye but wM
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
st elsewhere; but in my sight,
Dear heart forbear to glance thine eye aside,
st thou wound with cunning when thy might
erpressed defence can bide?
Let me excuse thee, ah my love well knows,
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
  Yet do not so, but since I am near slain,
  Kill me outright with lookM
                    140
Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press
My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain:
Lest sorrow lend me words and words express,
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach thee wit better it were,
Though not to love, yet love to tell me so,
As testy sick men when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know.
For if I should despair I should grow mad,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee,
Now this ill-wresting worlM
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.
  That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
  Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
                    141
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note,
tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine cars with thy tongue
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
o any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits, nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
s slave and vassal wretch to be:
  Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
  That she that makes me sin, awards me pain.
                    142
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,
O but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reprovM
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments,
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
 revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee,
Root pity in thy heart that when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
  If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
  By self-example mayst thou be denied.
                    143
Lo as a careful huswife runs M
One of her feathered creatures broke away,
Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch
In pursuit of the thing she would have stay:
Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent,
To follow that which flies before her face:
Not prizing her poor infant
st thou after that which flies from thee,
Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind,
But if thou catch thy hope turn back to me:
s part, kiss me, be kind.M
  So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
  If thou turn back and my loud crying still.
                    144
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still,
The better angel is a man right fair:
The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
To win me soon to hell my female evil,
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil:
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
t not directly tell,
But being both from me both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another
  Yet this shall I ne
er know but live in doubt,
  Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
                    145
Those lips that Love
s own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said
To me that languished for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet,
Was used in giving gentle doom:
 it thus anew to greet:
 she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle day,
Doth follow night who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
, from hate away she threw,
  And saved my life saying
                    146
Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth,
My sinful earth these rebel powers array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost having so short a lease,
y fading mansion spend?
Shall worms inheritors of this excess
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body
Then soul live thou upon thy servant
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more,
  So shall thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
  And death once dead, there
s no more dying then.
                    147
My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
 which doth preserve the ill,
 uncertain sickly appetite to please:
My reason the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve,
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest,
My thoughts and my discourse as mad men
At random from the truth vainly expressed.
  For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
  Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
                    148
O me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight,
Or if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote,
s eye is not so true as all men
How can it? O how can love
That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
No marvel then though I mistake my vM
The sun it self sees not, till heaven clears.
  O cunning love, with tears thou keep
  Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
                    149
Canst thou O cruel, say I love thee not,
When I against my self with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee when I forgot
Am of my self, all-tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,
st thou that I do fawn upon,
st on me do I not spend
Revenge upon my self with preM
What merit do I in my self respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
  But love hate on for now I know thy mind,
  Those that can see thou lov
                    150
O from what power hast thou this powerful might,
With insufficiency my heart to sway,
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of tM
That in the very refuse of thy deeds,
There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state.
  If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
  More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
                    151
Love is too young to know what conscience is,
Yet who knows not conscience is bornM
Then gentle cheater urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.
For thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body
My soul doth tell my body that he may,
Triumph in love, flesh stays no farther reason,
But rising at thy name doth point out thee,
As his triumphant prize, proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
  No want of conscience hold it that I call,
  Her love, for whose dear lM
ove I rise and fall.
                    152
In loving thee thou know
But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing,
In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,
In vowing new hate after new love bearing:
But why of two oaths
 breach do I accuse thee,
When I break twenty? I am perjured most,
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee:
And all my honest faith in thee is lost.
For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness:
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
 to enlighten thee gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see.
  For I have sworn thee fair: more perjured I,
  To swear against the truth so foul a lie.
                    153
Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
s this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground:
Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love,
A dateless lively heat still to endure,
And grew a seeting bath which yet men prove,
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure:
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast,
I sick withal the help of bath desired,
And thither hied a sad distempered guest.
  But found no cure, the bath for my help lies,
  Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress
                    154
The little Love-god lying once asleep,
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep,
Came tripping by, but iM
The fairest votary took up that fire,
Which many legions of true hearts had warmed,
And so the general of hot desire,
Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarmed.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
s fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy,
For men discased, but I my mistress
  Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
s fire heats water, water cools not love.
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THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEAR
by William Shakespeare
A Room of State in King Lear
A Hall in the Earl of Gloucester
A Room in the Duke of Albany
Court before the Duke of Albany
A court within the Castle of the Earl of Gloucester.
Another part of the heath.
A Room in Gloucester
A part of the Heath with a Hovel.
A Room in Gloucester
A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle.
A Room in Gloucester
Before the Duke of Albany
The French camp near Dover.
The French camp. A Tent.
A Room in Gloucester
The country near Dover.
A Tent in the French Camp.
The Camp of the British Forces near Dover.
A field between the two Camps.
The British Camp near Dover.
LEAR, King of Britain.
GONERIL, eldest daughter to Lear.
REGAN, second daughter to Lear.
CORDELIA, youngest daughter to Lear.
DUKE of ALBANY, married to Goneril.
DUKE of CORNWALL, married to Regan.
r son to Gloucester.
EDMUND, younger bastard son to Gloucester.
OSWALD, steward to Goneril.
OLD MAN, Tenant to Gloucester.
An Officer employed by Edmund.
Gentleman, attendant on Cordelia.
Servants to Cornwall.
Knights attending on the King, Officers, Messengers, Soldiers and
SCENE I. A Room of State in King Lear
 Enter Kent, Gloucester and Edmund.
I thought the King had M
more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.
It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the kingdom,
it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for qualities are so
weighed that curiosity in neither can make choice of either
Is not this your son, my lord?
His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have so often
d to acknowledge him that now I am braz
I cannot conceive you.
s mother could; whereupon she grew
round-wombed, and had indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she
had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?
I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper.
But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than
this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came
something saucily to the world before he was sent for, yet was
his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the
e acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentleman,
My Lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.
My services to your lordship.
I must love you, and sue to know you better.
Sir, I shall study deserving.
He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The King
 Enter Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia and Attendants.
of France and Burgundy,
 [_Exeunt Gloucester and Edmund._]
Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom: and
To shake all cares and business from our age;
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
d crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
 several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
And here are to be answer
d. Tell me, my daughters,
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state,
Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge.
Our eldest born, speak first.
Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter;
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty;
Beyond what can be valu
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
A love that makes breath poor and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
[_Aside._] What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.
Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champains rich
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady: to thine and Albany
What says our second daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? Speak.
Sir, I am made of the self mettle as my sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short, that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys
Which the most precious square of sense possesses,
And find I am alone felicitate
[_Aside._] Then poor Cordelia,
And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love
More ponderous than my tongue.
To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
No less in space, validity, and pleasure
Although the last and least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess
d; what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; no more nor less.
How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes.
You have begot me, bred me, lov
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
ters husbands if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all.
But goes thy heart with this?
So young, and so untender?
So young, my lord, and true.
Let it be so, thy truth then be thy dower:
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate and the niM
By all the operation of the orbs,
From whom we do exist and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour
d, pitied, and reliev
As thou my sometime daughter.
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
r most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nursery. [_To Cordelia._] Hence and avoid my sight!
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
s heart from her! Call France. Who stirs?
Call Burgundy! Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters
 dowers digest this third:
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
With reservation of an hundred knights,
Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain
The name, and all the addition to a king; the sway,
Revenue, execution of the rest,
Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm,
This coronet part between you.
 [_Giving the crown._]
Whom I have ever honour
d as my father, as my master follow
As my great patron thought on in my prayers.
The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft.
Let it fall rather, thoM
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly
When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man?
st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour
When majesty falls to folly. Reverse thy state;
And in thy best consideration check
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgement,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
Nor are those empty-hearted, whose low sounds
Reverb no hollowness.
Kent, on thy life, no moM
My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thine enemies; ne
Thy safety being the motive.
See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.
Now by Apollo, King,
st thy gods in vain.
O vassal! Miscreant!
 [_Laying his hand on his sword._]
ALBANY and CORNWALL.
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
ease. Revoke thy gift,
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
ll tell thee thou dost evil.
Hear me, recreant! on thine allegiance, hear me!
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vows,
Which we durst never yet, and with strain
To come betwixt our sentences and our power,
Which nor our nature, nor our place can bear,
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee for provision,
To shield thee from disasters of the world;
And on the sixth to turn thy hM
Upon our kingdom: if, on the next day following,
d trunk be found in our dominions,
The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter,
This shall not be revok
Fare thee well, King: sith thus thou wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
[_To Cordelia._] The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
st and hast most rightly said!
[_To Goneril and Regan._] And your large speeches may your deeds
That good effects may spring from woM
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;
ll shape his old course in a country new.
 Flourish. Re-enter Gloucester, with France, Burgundy and Attendants.
s France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
My Lord of Burgundy,
We first address toward you, who with this king
d for our daughter: what in the least
Will you require in present dower with her,
Or cease your quest of love?
I crave no more than hath yM
Nor will you tender less?
Right noble Burgundy,
When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
But now her price is fall
n. Sir, there she stands:
If aught within that little-seeming substance,
Or all of it, with our displeasure piec
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
s there, and she is yours.
Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
Unfriended, new adopted to our hate,
d with our curse, and strangerM
Take her or leave her?
Pardon me, royal sir;
Election makes not up in such conditions.
Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,
I tell you all her wealth. [_To France_] For you, great king,
I would not from your love make such a stray
To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
avert your liking a more worthier way
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham
This is most strange,
That she, who even but nM
ow was your best object,
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
The best, the dearest, should in this trice of time
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
So many folds of favour. Sure her offence
Must be of such unnatural degree
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch
Fall into taint; which to believe of her
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
Should never plant in me.
I yet beseech your majesty,
If for I want that glib and oily art
To speak and purpose not; sM
ince what I well intend,
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action or dishonour
d me of your grace and favour;
But even for want of that for which I am richer,
A still soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
Hath lost me in your liking.
Not been born than not to have pleas
a tardiness in natureM
Which often leaves the history unspoke
That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,
What say you to the lady? Love
When it is mingled with regards that stands
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
She is herself a dowry.
Give but that portion which yourself propos
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.
Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.
I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
That you must lose a husband.
Peace be with Burgundy!
Since that respects of fortunes are his love,
I shall not be his wife.
Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
Most choice forsaken; and most lov
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:
Be it lawful, I take up what
Tis strange that from their cold
My love should kindle to inflam
Thy dowerless daughter, King, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
d precious maid of me.
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
Thou losest here, a better where to find.
Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
Without our grace, our love, our benison.
Come, noble Burgundy.
 [_Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, Cornwall, Albany, Gloucester and
Bid farewell to your sisters.
The jewels of our father, with wash
Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;
And like a sister am most loath to call
Your faults as they are nam
d. Love well our father:
To your professed bosoms I commit him:
But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
I would prefer him to a better place.
So farewell to you both.
Prescribe not us our duties.
Be to content your lord, who hath receiv
s alms. You have obedience scanted,
l are worth the want that you have wanted.
Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides:
Who covers faults, at last shame derides.
Well may you prosper.
Come, my fair Cordelia.
 [_Exeunt France and Cordelia._]
Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly
appertains to us both. I think our father will hence tonight.
s most certain, and with you; next month with us.
You see how full of changes his age is; the observation we
ve made of it hath not been little: he always loved our
sister most; and with what poor judgement he hath now cast her
off appears too grossly.
Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but slenderly
The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must
we look from his age to receive not alone the imperfections of
long-engrafted condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness
that infirm and choleric years bring with them.
starts are we like to have from him as this of Kent
There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and
him. Pray you let us hit together: if our father carry authority
with such disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his
We shall further think of it.
We must do something, and i
SCENE II. A Hall in the Earl of Gloucester
 Enter Edmund with a
ure, art my goddess; to thy law
My services are bound. Wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
The curiosity of nations to deprive me?
For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? Wherefore base?
When my dimensions are as well compact,
My mind as generous, and my shape as true
s issue? Why brand they us
With base? With baseness? bastardy? Base, base?
Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
More composition and fierce quality
n doth within a dull stale tired bed
Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops
tween asleep and wake? Well then,
Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:
s love is to the bastard Edmund
As to the legitimate: fine word: legitimate!
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Shall top the legitimate. I grow, I prosper.
Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
d thus! and France in choler parted!
King gone tonight! Prescrib
d to exhibition! All this done
Edmund, how now! What news?
So please your lordship, none.
 [_Putting up the letter._]
Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
I know no news, my lord.
What paper were you reading?
No? What needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your pocket? The
quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itsM
if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles.
I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter from my brother that I
er-read; and for so much as I have perus
Give me the letter, sir.
I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as in
part I understand them, are to blame.
I hope, for my brother
s justification, he wroM
essay, or taste of my virtue.
This policy and reverence of age makes the world
bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us
till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle
and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways
not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, that
of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I
waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live
Sleep till I wake him, you should enjoy half
My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? A heart
and brain to breed it in? When came this to you? Who brought it?
It was not brought me, my lord, there
s the cunning of it. I
found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.
You know the character to be your brother
If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it were his; but
in respect of that, I would faiM
n think it were not.
It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is not in the
Has he never before sounded you in this business?
Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit
that, sons at perfect age, and fathers declined, the father
should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.
O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred
villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain!M
brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him; I
ll apprehend him. Abominable
villain, Where is he?
I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend
your indignation against my brother till you can derive from him
better testimony of his intent, you should run a certain course;
where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his
purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour, and shake
in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life
for him, that he hath M
writ this to feel my affection to your
honour, and to no other pretence of danger.
If your honour judge it meet, I will place you where you shall hear us
confer of this, and by an auricular assurance have your satisfaction,
and that without any further delay than this very evening.
He cannot be such a monster.
To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him. Heaven
and earth! Edmund, seek him out; windM
 me into him, I pray you:
frame the business after your own wisdom. I would unstate myself
to be in a due resolution.
I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I shall
find means, and acquaint you withal.
These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us:
though the wisdom of Nature can reason it thus and thus, yet
nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects. Love cools,
friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in
cord; in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked
twixt son and father. This villain of mine comes under the
s son against father: the King falls from
bias of nature; there
s father against child. We have seen the
best of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all
ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out
this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it
And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are
sick in fortune, often the surfeits of our own behaviour, we
make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as
if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion;
knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance;
drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of
planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine
thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whoremasterM
goatish disposition to the charge of a star. My father compounded
with my mother under the dragon
s tail, and my nativity was under
Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut! I
should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the
firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
Pat! he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy: my cue
is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o
these eclipses do portend these divisions! Fa, sol, lM
How now, brother Edmund, what serious contemplation are you in?
I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day,
what should follow these eclipses.
Do you busy yourself with that?
I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily: as of
unnaturalness between the child and the parent; death, dearth,
dissolutions of ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and
maledictions against King and nobles; needless diffidences,
riends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches,
and I know not what.
How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
Come, come! when saw you my father last?
Ay, two hours together.
Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him, by word
Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended him: and at my
entreaty forbear his presence until some litM
qualified the heat of his displeasure; which at this instant so
rageth in him that with the mischief of your person it would
Some villain hath done me wrong.
s my fear. I pray you have a continent forbearance till the
speed of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, retire with me to
my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord
speak: pray ye, go; there
s my key. If you do stir abroad, go
Brother, I advise you to the best; I am no honest man
if there be any good meaning toward you: I have told you what I
have seen and heard. But faintly; nothing like the image and
horror of it: pray you, away!
Shall I hear from you anon?
I do serve you in this business.
A credulous father! and a brother noble,
Whose nature is so far from doing harms
That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
My practices ride easy! I see the business.
Let me, if not by birtM
h, have lands by wit;
s meet that I can fashion fit.
SCENE III. A Room in the Duke of Albany
 Enter Goneril and Oswald.
Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
By day and night, he wrongs me; every hour
He flashes into one gross crime or other,
That sets us all at odds; I
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
 speak with him; say I am sick.
If you come slack of former services,
You shall do well; the fault of it I
s coming, madam; I hear him.
Put on what weary negligence you please,
You and your fellows; I
d have it come to question:
If he distaste it, let him to our sister,
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
Not to be overruled. Idle old man,
That still would manage those authorities
That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
s are babes again; and must be us
With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus
Remember what I have said.
And let his knights have colder looks among you;
What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so;
I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
ll write straight to my sister
To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.
SCENE IV. A Hall in Albany
 Enter Kent, disguised.
as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue
d my likeness. Now, banish
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov
Shall find thee full of labours.
 Horns within. Enter King
Lear, Knights and Attendants.
Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.
 [_Exit an Attendant._]
How now! what art thou?
What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?
I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that
will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to converse
with him that is wise and says little; to fear judgement; to fight
when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.
st as poor for a subject as he
s for a king, thou art
poor enough. What wouldst thou?
Who wouldst thou serve?
Dost thou know me, fellow?
No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would fain
What services canst thou do?
I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in
telling it and deliver a plain message bluntly. That which
ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the best of
oung, sir, to love a woman for singing; nor so old to
dote on her for anything: I have years on my back forty-eight.
Follow me; thou shalt serve me. If I like thee no worse after dinner, I
will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner! Where
fool? Go you and call my fool hither.
 [_Exit an Attendant._]
You, you, sirrah, where
What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
s my fool? Ho, I think the world
He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
Why came not the slave back to me when I called him?
Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would not.
My lord, I know not what the matter is; but to my judgement your
highness is not entertained with that ceremonious affection as
you were wont; there
t of kindness appears as
well in the general dependants as in the Duke himself also, and
I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty
cannot be silent when I think your highness wronged.
Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I have perceived
a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine
own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence and purpose of
unkindness: I will look further into
have not seen him this two days.
s going into France, sir, the fool hath much
No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you and tell my
daughter I would speak with her.
 [_Exit Attendant._]
Go you, call hither my fool.
 [_Exit another Attendant._]
O, you, sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, sir?
s knave: you whoreson dog! you slaM
I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
ll not be struck, my lord.
d neither, you base football player.
 [_Tripping up his heels._]
I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv
Come, sir, arise, away! I
ll teach you differences: away, away! If you
will measure your lubber
s length again, tarry; but away! go to; have
 [_Pushes Oswald out._]
Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there
s earnest of thy service.
 [_Giving Kent money._]
Let me hire him too; here
 [_Giving Kent his cap._]
How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?
Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
s out of favour. Nay, an thou
canst not smile as the wind sits, thou
lt catch cold shortly:
coxcomb: why, this fellow has banish
daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will; if
thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. How now,
nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
If I gave them all my living, I
d keep my coxcombs myself. There
mine; beg another of thy daughters.
Take heed, sirrah, the whip.
s a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped out, when
the Lady Brach may stand by the fire and M
A pestilent gall to me!
ll teach thee a speech.
    Have more than thou showest,
    Speak less than thou knowest,
    Lend less than thou owest,
    Ride more than thou goest,
    Learn more than thou trowest,
    Set less than thou throwest;
    Leave thy drink and thy whore,
    And keep in-a-door,
    And thou shalt have more
    Than two tens to a score.
This is nothing, fool.
d lawyer, you gave me
t. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.
[_to Kent._] Prythee tell him, so much the rent of his land
comes to: he will not believe a fool.
Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and
   That lord that counsell
     To give away thy land,
   Come place him here by me,
 Do thou for him stand.
   The sweet and bitter fool
     Will presently appear;
   The one in motley here,
     The other found out there.
Dost thou call me fool, boy?
All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou wast born
This is not altogether fool, my lord.
No, faith; lords and great men will not let me; if I had a
monopoly out, they would have part on
t and ladies too, they
will not let me have all the fool to myself; they
e, give me an egg, and I
What two crowns shall they be?
Why, after I have cut the egg i
 the middle and eat up the
meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i
st away both parts, thou bor
er the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown
st thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in
this, let him be whipped that first finds it so.
 less grace in a year;
     For wise men are grown foppish,
   And know not how their wits to wear,
     Their manners are so apish.
When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
I have used it, nuncle, e
st thy daughters thy
mothers; for when thou gav
st them the rod, and put
   Then they for sudden joy did weep,
     And I for sorrow sung,
   That such a king should play bo-peep,
     And go the fools among.
thee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to
lie; I would fain learn to lie.
An you lie, sirrah, we
ll have you whipped.
I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they
whipped for speaking true; thou
lt have me whipped for lying;
and sometimes I am whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be
thing than a fool: and yet I would not be thee,
nuncle: thou hast pared thy wit o
both sides, and left nothing
 the middle: here comes one o
How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you
are too much of late i
Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for
her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure: I am better
than thou art now. I am a fool, thou art nothing. [_To Goneril._]
Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids me, though
you say nothing. Mum, mum,
     He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
     Weary of all, shall want some.
Pointing to Lear_.] That
s a shealed peascod.
Not only, sir, this your all-licens
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful,
By what yourself too late have spoke and done,
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not scape censure, nor the redressM
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.
For you know, nuncle,
   The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
s had it head bit off by it young.
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
Are you our daughter?
I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
s, which of late transform you
From what you rightly are.
May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I
Doth any here know me? This is not Lear;
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied. Ha! waking?
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
I would learn that; for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge and
reason, I should be false persuaded I M
Which they will make an obedient father.
Your name, fair gentlewoman?
This admiration, sir, is much o
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright:
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust
Makes it more like a tavern or a brM
d palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy. Be, then, desir
By her that else will take the thing she begs
A little to disquantity your train;
And the remainder that shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
Which know themselves, and you.
Darkness and devils!
Saddle my horses; call my train together.
Degenerate bastard! I
ll not trouble thee:
Yet have I left a daughter.
You strike my people; and your disorder
servants of their betters.
Woe that too late repents!
[_To Albany._] O, sir, are you come?
Is it your will? Speak, sir.
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous when thou show
Than the sea-monster!
Pray, sir, be patient.
[_to Goneril._] Detested kite, thou liest.
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know;
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their nM
ame. O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
Which, like an engine, wrench
d my frame of nature
d place; drew from my heart all love,
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
[_Striking his head._] Beat at this gate that let thy folly in
And thy dear judgement out! Go, go, my people.
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath moved you.
It may be so, my lord.
Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst inteM
To make this creature fruitful!
Into her womb convey sterility!
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
And be a thwart disnatur
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
s pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent
hankless child! Away, away!
Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
Never afflict yourself to know more of it;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
ll tell thee. [_To Goneril._] Life and death! I am
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforcM
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
untented woundings of a father
Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I
And cast you with the waters that you lose
To temper clay. Ha! Let it be so.
I have another daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
ll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
ll resume the shape which thou dost think
 [_Exeunt Lear, Kent and Attendants._]
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you,
Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!
[_To the Fool._] You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool with thee.
   A fox when one has caught her,
   And such a daughter,
   Should sure to the slaughter,
   If my cap would buy a halter;
   So the fool follows after.
This man hath had good counsel.
Tis politic and safe to let him keep
At point a hundred knights: yes, that on every dream,
Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say!
Well, you may fear too far.
Safer than trust too far:
Let me still take away the harms I fear,
Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart.
d I have writ my sister:
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
Take you some company, and away to horse:
Inform her full of my particular fear;
And thereto add such reasons of your own
As may compact it more. Get you gone;
And hasten your return.
This milky gentleness and course of yours,
Though I condemn not, yet, under parM
You are much more attask
d for want of wisdom
d for harmful mildness.
How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell:
Striving to better, oft we mar what
Well, well; the event.
SCENE V. Court before the Duke of Albany
 Enter Lear, Kent and Fool.
Go you before to Gloucester with these letters: acquaint my
daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her
demand out of the letter. M
If your diligence be not speedy, I
shall be there afore you.
I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter.
Then I prythee be merry; thy wit shall not go slipshod.
Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly, for though
s as like this as a crab
s like an apple, yet I can tell
ll taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou
s eyes of either side
s nose, that what a man
cannot smell out, he may spy into.
Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
s head in; not to give it away to his daughters, and
ve his horns without a case.
I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my horses ready?
Thy asses are gone about
em. The reason why the seven stars are
no more than seven is a pretty reason.
Because they are not eight?
Yes indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.
Monster ingratitude!
If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I
ld have thee beaten for being
old before thy time.
Thou shouldst not haM
ve been old till thou hadst been wise.
O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!
Keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
How now? are the horses ready?
s a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.
SCENE I. A court within the Castle of the Earl of Gloucester.
 Enter Edmund and Curan, meeting.
And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him
notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be
here with him this night.
Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; I mean the
whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?
Not I: pray you, what are they?
Have you heard of no likely wars toward,
of Cornwall and Albany?
n, in time. Fare you well, sir.
The Duke be here tonight? The better! best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business.
My father hath set guard to take my brother;
And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
Which I must act. Briefness and fortune work!
Brother, a word, descend, brother, I say!
My father watches: O sir, fly this place;
Intelligence is given where you are hid;
You have now the good advantage of the night.
Have you not spoken
s coming hither; now, i
And Regan with him: have you nothing said
gainst the Duke of Albany?
I hear my father coming:
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you:
Draw: seem to defend yourself: now quit you well.
Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here!
Fly, brother. Torches, torches!
Some blood drawn on me would beget M
Of my more fierce endeavour: [_Wounds his arm._]
I have seen drunkards
Do more than this in sport. Father, father!
Stop, stop! No help?
 Enter Gloucester and
Servants with torches.
Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
To stand auspicious mistress.
Where is the villain, Edmund?
way, sir. When by no means he could,
Pursue him, ho! Go after.
 [_Exeunt Servants._]
Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
But that I told him the revenging gods
Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;
Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond
The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine,
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion
With his prepared sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, latch
But when he saw my best alarum
Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.
Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
d. The noble Duke my master,
My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight:
By his authority I will proclaim it,
That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,
Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;
He that conceals him, death.
When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
d to discover him: he replied,
Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think,
If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee
Make thy words faith
d? No: what I should deny
As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce
My very character, I
To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice:
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
 thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it.
Would he deny his letter, said he? I never got him.
s trumpets! I know not why he comes.
ll bar; the villain shall not scape;
The Duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him; and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I
To make thee capable.
 Enter Cornwall, Regan and
How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,
Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.
If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
offender. How dost, my lord?
O madam, my old heart is crack
s godson seek your life?
He whom my father nam
O lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tend upon my father?
tis too bad, too bad.
Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
No marvel then though he were ill affected:
Tis they have put him on the old man
To have the expense and waste of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
d of them; and with such cautions
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
, assure thee, Regan.
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
It was my duty, sir.
He did bewray his practice; and receiv
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
If he be taken, he shall never more
d of doing harm: make your own purpose,
How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shM
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.
I shall serve you, sir, truly, however else.
For him I thank your grace.
You know not why we came to visit you?
Thus out of season, threading dark-ey
Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,
Wherein we must have use of your advice.
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messeM
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our business,
Which craves the instant use.
Your graces are right welcome.
 [_Exeunt. Flourish._]
SCENE II. Before Gloucester
 Enter Kent and Oswald,
Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?
Where may we set our horses?
Prythee, if thou lov
Why then, I care not for thee.
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me.
Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
Fellow, I know thee.
What dost thou know me for?
A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud,
shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy,
worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finicaM
one trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of
good service, and art nothing but the composition of a
knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel
bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou
deniest the least syllable of thy addition.
Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that
neither known of thee nor knows thee?
What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is
it two days ago since M
I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before
the King? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon
 the moonshine of you: draw, you
whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw!
 [_Drawing his sword._]
Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the King; and
take vanity the puppet
s part against the royalty of her father:
draw, you rogue, or I
ll so carbonado your shanks:
Help, ho! murder! help!
Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike!
Help, ho! murder! murder!
 Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan,
Gloucester and Servants.
With you, goodman boy, if you please: come, I
Keep peace, upon your lives, he dies that strikes again. What is the
The messengers from our sister and the King.
What is your difference? Speak.
I am scarce in breath, my lord.
No marvel, you have so bestirr
d your valour. You cowardly
rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.
Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?
Ay, a tailor, sir: a stonecutter or a painter could not have
made him so ill, though he had been but two years at the trade.
Speak yet, how grew your quarreM
This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of his grey
Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you
give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar and
daub the walls of a jakes with him. Spare my grey beard, you wagtail?
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.
That such a slave as this should wear a swordM
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
Which are too intrince t
unloose; smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel;
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
ling home to Camelot.
What, art thou mad, old fellow?
How fell you out? Say that.
No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
His countenance likes me not.
No more perchance does mine, or his, or hers.
tis my occupation to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
Who, having been prais
d for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb
Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he,
An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!
An they will take it, so; if not, he
These kind of knaves I know which in this plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
Than twenty silly-ducking observants
That stretch their duties nicely.
Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
allowance of your great aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus
To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I know,
sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain accent
was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I
should win your displeasure to entreat me to
What was the offence you gave him?
I never gave him any:
d the King his master very late
upon his misconstruction;
When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure,
d me behind; being down, insulted, rail
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthied him, got praises of the King
For him attempting who was self-subdu
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.
None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
Fetch forth the stocks!
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart,
 am too old to learn:
Call not your stocks for me: I serve the King;
On whose employment I was sent to you:
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
Fetch forth the stocks!
As I have life and honour, there shall he sit till noon.
Till noon! Till night, my lord; and all night too!
Why, madam, if I were your father
You should not use me so.
Sir, being his knave, I will.
This is a fellow of the selfsame colour
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!
Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
His fault is much, and the good King his master
Is such as basest and contemned
For pilferings and most common trespasses,
d with. The King must take it ill
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrained.
My sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her gentleman abus
For following her affairs. Put in his legs.
 [_Kent is put in the
Come, my good lord, away.
 [_Exeunt all but Gloucester and Kent._]
I am sorry for thee, friend;
Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
ll entreat for thee.
Pray do not, sir: I have watch
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I
s fortune may grow out at heels:
Give you good morrow!
s to blame in this:
Good King, that must approve the common saw,
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
most fortunately been inform
Of my obscured course. And shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give
Losses their remedies. All weary and o
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night: smile once more, turn thy wheel!
SCENE III. The open Country.
I heard myself proclaim
And by the happy hollow of a tree
d the hunt. No port is free, no place
That guard and most unusual vigilaM
Does not attend my taking. While I may scape
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury in contempt of man,
Brought near to beast: my face I
ll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots,
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb
d and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, M
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom,
s something yet: Edgar I nothing am.
SCENE IV. Before Gloucester
s Castle; Kent in the stocks.
 Enter Lear, Fool and Gentleman.
Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
And not send back my messenger.
there was no purpose in them
Hail to thee, noble master!
st thou this shame thy pastime?
Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the
heads; dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the loins, and
men by the legs: when a man is overlusty at legs, then he
wears wooden nether-stocks.
s he that hath so much thy place mistook
It is both he and she,
Your son and daughter.
No, no; they would not.
By Jupiter, I swear no.
By Juno, I swear ay.
They could not, would not do
tis worse than murder,
To do upon respect such violent outrage:
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage,
My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness
Ere I was risen from the place that show
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
d in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations;
d letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read; on those contents,
d up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome I perceiv
ry fellow which of late
d so saucily against your highness,
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
d the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
s not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
  Fathers that wear rags
    Do make their children blind,
  But fathers that bear bags
    Shall see their children kind.
  Fortune, that arrant whore,
er turns the key to th
 all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy
daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
_Hysterica passio_, down, thou climbing sorrow,
s below! Where is this daughter?
With the earl, sir, here within.
Follow me not; stay here.
Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
How chance the King comes with so small a number?
An thou hadst been set i
thou hadst well deserved it.
ll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there
the winter. All that follow their noses are led by
their eyes but blind men; and there
s not a nose among twenty
but can smell him that
s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great
wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following
it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give meM
would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
          That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
             And follows but for form,
          Will pack when it begins to rain,
             And leave thee in the storm.
          But I will tarry; the fool will stay,
             And let the wise man fly:
          The knave turns fool that runs away;
             The fool no knave perdy.
 Enter Lear and Gloucester.
Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?
d all the night? Mere fetches;
The images of revolt and flying off.
Fetch me a better answer.
You know the fiery quality of the Duke;
How unremovable and fix
Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
d them! Dost thou understand me, man?
The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends, service,
d of this? My breath and blood!
Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that
No, but not yet: maybe he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves
When nature, being oppress
To suffer with the body: I
And am fallen out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos
For the sound man. [_Looking on Kent._]
Death on my state! Wherefore
Should he sit here? This act persuades me
That this remotion of the Duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
Go tell the Duke and
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber door I
Till it cry sleep to death.
I would have all well betwixt you.
O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down!
Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put
 the paste alive; she knapped
with a stick and cried
Down, wantons, down!
her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse buttered his hay.
 Enter Cornwall, Regan,
Gloucester and Servants.
Good morrow to you both.
 [_Kent here set atM
I am glad to see your highness.
Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother
Sepulchring an adultress. [_To Kent_] O, are you free?
Some other time for that.
s naught: O Regan, she hath tied
d unkindness, like a vulture, here.
 [_Points to his heart._]
I can scarce speak to thee; thou
I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty.
I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance
d the riots of your followers,
Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
O, sir, you are old;
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be rM
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return;
Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this becomes the house?
Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.
Good sir, no more! These are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.
She hath abated me of half my train;
d black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart.
d vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!
You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
d fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!
you wish on me when the rash mood is on.
No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse.
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce; but thine
Do comfort, and not burn.
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in. Thou better know
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
om hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow
Good sir, to the purpose.
s: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.
This is a slave, whose easy borrowed pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!
What means your grace?
rvant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on
t. Who comes here? O heavens!
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!
[_To Goneril._] Art not asham
d to look upon this beard?
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
s not offence that indiscretion finds
And dotage terms so.
O sides, you are too tough!
yet hold? How came my man i
I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
d much less advancement.
I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
Return to her, and fifty men dismiss
No, rather I abjure all roofsM
To wage against the enmity o
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
s sharp pinch! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg
To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.
 [_Pointing to Oswald._]
At your choice, sir.
I prythee, daughter, do not make me mad:
 not trouble thee, my child; farewell:
ll no more meet, no more see one another.
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
Or rather a disease that
Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil,
A plague sore, or embossed carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. But I
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove:
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure:
I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.
d not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so
But she knows what she does.
Is this well spoken?
I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more?
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
gainst so great a numberM
Should many people, under two commands,
Tis hard; almost impossible.
Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
Why not, my lord? If then they chanc
We could control them. If you will come to me,
For now I spy a danger,
To bring but five-and-twenty: to no more
Will I give place or notice.
And in good time you gave it.
Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
But kept a reservation to be followed
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five-and-twenty, Regan, said you so?
t again my lord; no more with me.
Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour
When others are more wicked; not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise.
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
t need you five-and-twenty? Ten? Or five?
To follow in a house where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?
O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
s life is cheap as beast
If only to go warm were gorgeous,
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I neM
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that stirs these daughters
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
s weapons, water-drops,
s cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both
That all the world shall,
I will do such things,
What they are yet, I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You think I
 [_Storm and tempest._]
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
O fool, I shall go mad!
 [_Exeunt Lear, Gloucester, Kent and Fool._]
This house is little: the old man and his people
Cannot be well bestow
Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest
And must needs taste his folly.
For his particular, I
But not one follower.
Where is my lord of Gloucester?
Followed the old man forth, he is return
The King is in high rage.
Whither is he going?
He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.
Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle; for M
O, sir, to wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors.
He is attended with a desperate train,
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus
d, wisdom bids fear.
Shut up your doors, my lord;
My Regan counsels well: come out o
 A storm with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent and M
s there, besides foul weather?
One minded like the weather, most unquietly.
Contending with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
Or swell the curled waters
That things might change or cease; tears his white hair,
Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rage,
Catch in their fury and make nothing of;
Strives in his little world of man to outscorn
and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.
But who is with him?
None but the fool, who labours to out-jest
His heart-struck injuries.
And dare, upon the warrant of my note
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it be cover
With mutual cunning,
twixt Albany and CoM
Who have, as who have not, that their great stars
d and set high; servants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes;
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
Against the old kind King; or something deeper,
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings;
But, true it is, from France there comes a power
d kingdom; who already,
Wise in our negligenceM
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their open banner.
If on my credit you dare build so far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
The King hath cause to plain.
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
And from some knowledge and assurance
Offer this office to you.
I will talk further with you.
For confirmation that I am much more
an my out-wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,
As fear not but you shall, show her this ring;
And she will tell you who your fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
I will go seek the King.
Give me your hand: have you no more to say?
Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet:
That, when we have found the King, in which your pain
ll this; he that first lights on him
nother part of the heath.
 Storm continues. Enter Lear
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench
d our steeples, drown
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o
s moulds, all germens spill at once,
That make ingrateful man!
ourt holy-water in a dry house is better than this
 door. Good nuncle, in; and ask thy daughters
s a night pities neither wise men nor fools.
Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters;
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
I never gave you kingdom, call
You owe me no subscription: then let fall
Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That will with two pernicious daughters join
So old and white as this! O! O!
He that has a house to put
s head in has a good head-piece.
   The codpiece that will house
     Before the head has any,
   The head and he shall louse:
     So beggars marry many.
   The man that makes his toe
     What he his heart should make
   Shall of a corn cry woe,
     And turn his sleep to wake.
 was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
No, I will be the pattern of all patience;
s grace and a codpiece; that
Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night
Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,
And make them keep their caves. Since I was man,
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
f roaring wind and rain I never
Remember to have heard. Man
s nature cannot carry
affliction, nor the fear.
That keep this dreadful pudder o
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
That hast within thee undivulged crimes
d of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand;
d, and thou simular of virtue
That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake
That under covert and convenient seeming
Rive your concealing continents, and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
d against than sinning.
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
Some friendship will it lend you
Repose you there, whilst I to this hard house,
More harder than the stones whereof
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in,
Their scanted courtesy.
My wits begin to turn.
 on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold?
I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
s sorry yet for thee.
   He that has and a little tiny wit,
     With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain,
   Must make content with his fortunes fit,
     Though the rain it raineth every day.
True, boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.
xeunt Lear and Kent._]
This is a brave night to cool a courtezan. I
   When priests are more in word than matter;
   When brewers mar their malt with water;
   When nobles are their tailors
   When every case in law is right;
   No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
   When slanders do not live in tongues;
   Nor cut-purses come not to throngs;
   When usurers tell their gold i
s and whores do churches build,
   Then shall the realm of Albion
   Come to great confusion:
   Then comes the time, who lives to see
   That going shall be us
This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.
SCENE III. A Room in Gloucester
 Enter Gloucester and Edmund.
Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I
desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the
use of mine own house; charged mM
e on pain of perpetual displeasure,
neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him.
Most savage and unnatural!
Go to; say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes,
and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this
tis dangerous to be spoken;
I have locked the letter
in my closet: these injuries the King now bears will be revenged
s part of a power already footed: we must incline to
the King. I will look him, and privilM
y relieve him: go you and
maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him
perceived: if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I
die for it, as no less is threatened me, the King my old master
must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund;
pray you be careful.
This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke
Instantly know; and of that letter too.
This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
That which my father loses, no less than all:
 when the old doth fall.
SCENE IV. A part of the Heath with a Hovel.
 Storm continues. Enter Lear,
Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:
The tyranny of the open night
For nature to endure.
Good my lord, enter here.
Wilt break my heart?
I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
tis much that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin: so
But where the greater malady is fix
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou
But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,
 the mouth. When the mind
s delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else
Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
t? But I will punish home;
No, I will weep no more. In such a night
To shut me out! Pour on; I will enduM
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
Good my lord, enter here.
Prythee go in thyself; seek thine own ease:
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more. But I
[_To the Fool._] In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
d raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them
And show the heavens more just.
[_Within._] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
 [_The Fool runs out from the hovel._]
Come not in here, nuncle, M
Give me thy hand. Who
A spirit, a spirit: he says his name
What art thou that dost grumble there i
 Enter Edgar, disguised as a
Away! the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the
cold wind. Humh! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
Didst thou give all to thy two daughters?
And art thou come to this?
Who gives anything to poor Tom? WhoM
m the foul fiend hath led
through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o
bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow and
halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge; made him proud
of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horse over four-inched
bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five
s a-cold. O, do, de, do, de, do, de. Bless thee from
whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity,
whom the foul fiend vexes. There could M
and there again, and there.
 [_Storm continues._]
What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?
Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give
d a blanket, else we had been all shamed.
Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air
s faults light on thy daughters!
He hath no daughters, sir.
Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu
To such a lowness but his unkind daughM
Is it the fashion that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
Judicious punishment!
twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters.
   Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill,
     Alow, alow, loo loo!
This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
 foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word
justly; swear not; commit not with man
s sworn spouse; set not
thy sweet-heart on proud array. Tom
A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair;
wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress
did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake
words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven. One that
slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it. Wine loved
I deeply, dice dearly; and in woman out-paramour
False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox
in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, M
Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray
thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand
out of plackets, thy pen from lender
s book, and defy the foul
fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: says
suum, mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa! let him trot by.
 [_Storm still continues._]
Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered
body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider
well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no
wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here
sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more
but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you
lendings! Come, unbutton here.
 [_Tears off his clothes._]
Prythee, nuncle, be contented;
tis a naughty night to swim
in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher
heart, a small spark, all the rest on
comes a walking fire.
This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks
till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and
makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature
   Swithold footed thrice the old;
   He met the nightmare, and her nine-fold;
     Bid her alight and her troth plight,
   And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
How fares your grace?
 Enter Gloucester with a
What are you there? Your names?
Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the
wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the
foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat
and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool;
who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished,
and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts
     Horse to ride, and weapon to wear.
     But mice and rats and such small deer,
s food for seven long year.
Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!
What, hath your grace no better company?
The prince of darkness is a gentleman:
Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile
That it doth hate what gets it.
Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer
obey in all your daughters
Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
d to come seek you out,
And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
First let me talk with this philosopher.
What is the cause of thunder?
Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house.
ll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.
Let me ask you one word in private.
Importune him once more to go, my lord;
Canst thou blame him?
His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent!
He said it would be thus, poor banish
Thou sayest the King grows mad; I
ll tell thee, friend,
I am almost mad myself. I had a son,
d from my blood; he sought my life
But lately, very late: I lov
No father his son dearer: true to tell thee,
 [_Storm continues._]
d my wits. What a night
I do beseech your grace.
O, cry you mercy, sir.
Noble philosopher, your company.
In, fellow, there, into the hovel; keep thee warm.
I will keep still with my philosopher.
Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
No words, no words, hush.
   Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
   His word was still
   I smell the blood of a British man.
SCENE V. A Room in Gloucester
 Enter Cornwall and Edmund.
I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.
How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to
loyalty, something fears me to think of.
I now perceive it was not altogether yourM
disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set
a-work by a reproveable badness in himself.
How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This
is the letter he spoke of, which approves him an intelligent
party to the advantages of France. O heavens! that this treason
were not; or not I the detector!
Go with me to the Duchess.
If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business
e, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. Seek out
where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension.
[_Aside._] If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his
suspicion more fully. I will persever in my course of loyalty,
though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.
I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father
SCENE VI. A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle.
 Enter Gloucester, Lear, Kent,
Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will
piece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will not be
All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience:
the gods reward your kindness!
 [_Exit Gloucester._]
Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake
of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
Prythee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a
s a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he
yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.
To have a thousand with red burning spits
Come hissing in upon
The foul fiend bites my back.
s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse
It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.
[_To Edgar._] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;
hou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes!
Look, where he stands and glares! Want
st thou eyes at trial, madam?
er the bourn, Bessy, to me.
   Her boat hath a leak,
   And she must not speak
   Why she dares not come over to thee.
The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale.
Hoppedance cries in Tom
s belly for two white herring. Croak not, black
angel; I have no food for thee.
How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz
 lie down and rest upon the cushions?
ll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence.
[_To Edgar._] Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place.
[_To the Fool._] And thou, his yokefellow of equity,
Bench by his side. [_To Kent._] You are o
   Let us deal justly.
   Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
     Thy sheep be in the corn;
   And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
     Thy sheep shall take no harm.
Purr! the cat is grey.
tis Goneril. I here take my oath before
this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor King her father.
Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
s another, whose warp
What store her heart is made on. Stop her there!
Arms, arms! sword! fire! Corruption in the place!
False justicer, why hast thou let her
Bless thy five wits!
ty! Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
[_Aside._] My tears begin to take his part so much
They mar my counterfeiting.
The little dogs and all,
Trey, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.
Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!
   Be thy mouth or black or white,
   Tooth that poisons if it bite;
   Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
   Hound or spaniel, brach or him,
   Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,
   Tom will make theM
   For, with throwing thus my head,
   Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do, de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market towns.
Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her
heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard
hearts? [_To Edgar._] You, sir, I entertain you for one of my
hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You
say they are Persian; but let them be changed.
od my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains.
ll go to bed at noon.
Come hither, friend;
Where is the King my master?
Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.
Good friend, I prythee, take him in thy arms;
erheard a plot of death upon him;
There is a litter ready; lay him in
And drive towards Dover, friend, whM
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master;
If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up;
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.
Oppressed nature sleeps.
This rest might yet have balm
d thy broken sinews,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure. Come, help to bear thy master;
[_To the Fool._] Thou must not stay behind.
 [_Exeunt Kent, Gloucester and the Fool bearing off Lear._]
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers, suffers most i
Leaving free things and happy shows behind:
But then the mind much sufferance doth o
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the King bow;
He childed as I fathered! Tom, away!
Mark the high noises;M
 and thyself bewray,
When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile thee,
In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.
What will hap more tonight, safe
SCENE VII. A Room in Gloucester
 Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril,
Edmund and Servants.
Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter: the army
of France is landed. Seek out the traitor Gloucester.
 [_Exeunt some of the Servants._]
Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our sister
company: the revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous
father are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke where you
are going, to a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the
like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us.
Farewell, dear sister, farewell, my lord of Gloucester.
My lord of Gloucester hath convey
Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
Who, with some other of the lord
Are gone with him toward Dover: where they boast
To have well-armed friends.
Get horses for your mistress.
Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
 [_Exeunt Goneril, Edmund and Oswald._]
Go seek the traitor Gloucester,
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.
 [_Exeunt other Servants._]
ay not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice, yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not control. Who
s there? The traitor?
Bind fast his corky arms.
What mean your graces?
Good my friends, consider you are my guests.
Do me no foul play, friends.
 [_Servants bind him._]
Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!
rciful lady as you are, I
To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find
 [_Regan plucks his beard._]
tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.
So white, and such a traitor!
These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin
Will quicken, and accuse thee. I am your host:
s hands my hospitable favours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
Come, sir, what letters haM
d you late from France?
d, for we know the truth.
And what confederacy have you with the traitors,
Late footed in the kingdom?
To whose hands have you sent the lunatic King?
I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that
s of a neutral heart,
And not from one oppos
Where hast thou sent the King?
Wherefore to Dover? WasM
Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.
Wherefore to Dover, sir?
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night endur
d the stelled fires;
Yet, poor old heart, he holp thM
If wolves had at thy gate howl
Thou shouldst have said,
Good porter, turn the key.
All cruels else subscrib
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
t shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
Upon these eyes of thine I
 [_Gloucester is held down in his chair, while Cornwall plucks out one
 of his eyes and sets his foot on it._]
He that will think to live till he be old,
O cruel! O you gods!
One side will mock another; the other too!
If you see vengeance
Hold your hand, my lord:
d you ever since I was a child;
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold.
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
 [_Draws, and runs at him._]
Nay, then, come on, M
and take the chance of anger.
 [_Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded._]
[_To another servant._] Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
 [_Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him._]
O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on him. O!
Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
Where is thy lustre now?
 [_Tears out Gloucester
s other eye and throws it on the ground._]
All dark and comfortlM
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
To quit this horrid act.
Out, treacherous villain!
st on him that hates thee: it was he
That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
Who is too good to pity thee.
O my follies! Then Edgar was abus
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover. How is
t, my lord? How look you?
Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave
Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace:
Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.
 [_Exit Cornwall, led by Regan; Servants unbind Gloucester and lead
ll never care what wickedness I do,
If this man come to good.
And in the end meet the old course of death,
Women will all turn monsters.
s follow the old Earl, and get the bedlam
 he would: his roguish madness
Allows itself to anything.
ll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
Yet better thus, and known to be contemn
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns toM
 laughter. Welcome then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace;
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts.
 Enter Gloucester, led by an
But who comes here? My father, poorly led?
World, world, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.
O my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father
these fourscore years.
Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone.
Thy comforts can do M
You cannot see your way.
I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw. Full oft
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
d say I had eyes again!
[_Aside._] O gods! Who is
[_Aside._] And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
So long as we can say
Fellow, where goest?
Madman, and beggar too.
He has some reason, else he could not beg.
s storm I such a fellow saw;
Which made me think a man a worm. My son
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him.
I have heard more since.
 to wanton boys are we to the gods,
They kill us for their sport.
[_Aside._] How should this be?
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Angering itself and others. Bless thee, master!
Is that the naked fellow?
Then prythee get thee away. If for my sake
ertake us hence a mile or twain,
 the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love,
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
ll entreat to lead me.
Alack, sir, he is mad.
s plague when madmen lead the blind.
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone.
ll bring him the best
Sirrah naked fellow.
[_Aside._] I cannot daub it further.
Come hither, fellow.
[_Aside._] And yet I must. Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor Tom hath been
scared out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man
the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of
lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of darkness; Mahu, of
stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and
mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. So,
Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven
Have humbled to allM
 strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier. Heavens deal so still!
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly;
So distribution should undo excess,
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?
There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me but to the very brim of it,
ll repair the misery thou dost bear
ething rich about me: from that place
I shall no leading need.
Poor Tom shall lead thee.
SCENE II. Before the Duke of Albany
 Enter Goneril, Edmund;
Oswald meeting them.
Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way. Now, where
Madam, within; but never man so chang
I told him of the army that was landed;
d at it: I told him you were coming;
And of the loyal service of his son
And told me I had turn
d the wrong side out.
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.
[_To Edmund._] Then shall you go no further.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
That dares not undertake. He
Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;
Hasten his musters and conduct M
I must change names at home, and give the distaff
s hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf,
s command. [_Giving a favour._]
Wear this; spare speech;
Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.
Conceive, and fare thee well.
Yours in the ranks of death.
My most dear Gloucester.
My fool usurps my body.
Madam, here comes my lord.
I have been worth the whistle.
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face! I fear your disposition;
That nature which contemns its origin
Cannot be bordered certain in itself.
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use.
No more; the text is foolish.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence even the head-lugg
Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded.
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
A man, a prince, by him so benefitted!
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep.
st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know
Fools do those villains pity who are punish
Ere they have done their mischief. Where
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
With plumed helm thy state begins to threat,
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt
st still, and criest
Alack, why does he so?
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.
Thou changed and self-cover
Be-monster not thy feature! Were
To let these hands obey my blood.
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones. Howe
er thou art a fiend,
s shape doth shield thee.
Marry, your manhood, mew!
O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloucester.
A servant that he bred, thrill
d against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag
Flew on him, and amongst them fell
But not without that harmful stroke which since
This shows you are above,
You justicers, that these our nether criM
So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!
Lost he his other eye?
Both, both, my lord.
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
Tis from your sister.
[_Aside._] One way I like this well;
But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
May all the building in my fancy pluck
Upon my hateful life. Another way
The news is not so tart. I
ll read, and answer.
Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
Come with my lady hither.
No, my good lord; I met him back again.
Knows he the wickedness?
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
Might have the freer course.
To thank thee for the love thou show
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend,
Tell me what more thou know
SCENE III. The French camp near Dover.
 Enter Kent and a GM
Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back, know you no
Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming
forth is thought of, which imports to the kingdom so much fear
and danger that his personal return was most required and
Who hath he left behind him general?
The Mareschal of France, Monsieur La Far.
Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?
Ay, sir; she took theM
m, read them in my presence;
And now and then an ample tear trill
Her delicate cheek. It seem
Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better day. Those happy smilets
d on her ripe lip seem
What guests were in her eyes; which M
As pearls from diamonds dropp
Sorrow would be a rarity most belov
If all could so become it.
Made she no verbal question?
Faith, once or twice she heav
Pantingly forth, as if it press
Sisters, sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!
Kent! father! sisters! What, i
Let pity not be believ
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
er: then away she started
To deal with grief alone.
The stars above us govern our conditions;
Else one self mate and make could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
Was this before the King return
Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
A sovereign shame so elbows him. His own unkindness,
d her from his benediction, turn
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting
His mind so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.
Alack, poor gentleman!
s powers you heard not?
Tis so; they are afoot.
ll bring you to our master Lear
And leave you to attend hiM
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance.
I pray you, go along with me.
SCENE IV. The French camp. A Tent.
 Enter with drum and colours, Cordelia, Physician
tis he: why, he was met even now
d sea; singing aloud;
d with rank fumiter and furrow weeds,
With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds thM
In our sustaining corn. A century send forth;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye.
 [_Exit an Officer._]
In the restoring his bereaved sense,
He that helps him take all my outward worth.
There is means, madam:
Our foster nurse of nature is repose,
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.
Spring with my tears! Be aidant and remediate
s distress! Seek, seek for him;
d rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to lead it.
The British powers are marching hitherward.
Tis known before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,
It is thy business that I go about;
Therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition dothM
But love, dear love, and our ag
Soon may I hear and see him!
SCENE V. A Room in Gloucester
 Enter Regan and Oswald.
Himself in person there?
Madam, with much ado.
Your sister is the better soldier.
Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
What might import my sister
Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
It was great ignorance, Gloucester
To let him live. Where he arrives he moves
All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone
In pity of his misery, to dispatch
His nighted life; moreover to descry
I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
Our troops set forth tomorrow; stay with us;
The ways are dangerous.
my duty in this business.
Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
Transport her purposes by word? Belike,
Somethings, I know not what, I
Let me unseal the letter.
I know your lady does not love her husband;
I am sure of that; and at her late being here
She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
I speak in understanding; y
Therefore I do advise you take this note:
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk
And more convenient is he for my hand
s. You may gather more.
If you do find him, pray you give him this;
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray desire her call her wisdom to her.
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
Would I could meet him, madam! I should show
What party I do follow.
SCENE VI. The country near Dover.
 Enter Gloucester, and Edgar  dressed like a peasant.
When shall I come to the top of that same hill?
You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.
Methinks the ground is even.
Hark, do you hear the sea?
Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
So may it be indeed.
Methinks thy voice is alter
In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
d: in nothing am I chang
s the place. Stand still. How fearful
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
en that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
d to her cock; her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge
d idle pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. I
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.
Set me where you stand.
You are now within a foot of th
For all beneath the moon would I not leap upright.
s another purse; in it a jewel
Well worth a poor man
s taking. Fairies and gods
Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
Now fare ye well, good sir.
[_Aside._] Why I do trifle thus with his despair
This world I do renounce, and in your sights,
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
r it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff and loathed part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
Now, fellow, fare thee well.
Gone, sir, farewell.
 [_Gloucester leaps, and falls along_]
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life when life itself
Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought,
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?
Ho you, sir! friend! Hear you, sir? speak!
Thus might he pass indeed: yM
Away, and let me die.
Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
So many fathom down precipitating,
d like an egg: but thou dost breathe;
Hast heavy substance; bleed
Ten masts at each make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.
Thy life is a miracle. Speak yet again.
From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
 a-height, the shrill-gorg
Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.
Alack, I have no eyes.
Is wretchedness depriv
To end itself by death?
Twas yet some comfort
When misery could beguile the tyrant
And frustrate his proud will.
t? Feel you your legs? You stand.
This is above all strangeness.
 the cliff what thing was that
A poor unfortunate beggar.
As I stood here below, methought his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
d and waved like the enraged sea.
It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
s impossibilities, have preserv
I do remember now: henceforth I
Affliction till it do cry out itself
 and die. That thing you speak of,
The fiend, the fiend
; he led me to that place.
Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here?
 Enter Lear, fantastically
dressed up with flowers.
The safer sense will ne
No, they cannot touch me for coining. I am the King himself.
O thou side-piercing sight!
s above art in that respect. There
That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier
yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace, this piece of toasted cheese
ll prove it on a giant.
Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i
the clout. Hewgh! Give the word.
Ha! Goneril with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told
me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say
 to everything I said
 to was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet
me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not
peace at my bidding; there I found
Go to, they are not men o
 their words: they told me I was everything;
tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
The trick of that voice I do well remember:
Ay, every inch a king.
When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
s life. What was thM
Adultery? Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No:
t, and the small gilded fly
Does lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive;
s bastard son was kinder to his father
Than my daughters got
tween the lawful sheets.
t, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.
Whose face between her forks presages snow;
That minces virtue, and does shake the head
The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to
appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all
above. But to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the
s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit;
burning, scalding, stench,
consumption. Fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good
apothecary, to sweeten my imagination. There
O, let me kiss that hand!
Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
of nature, this great world
Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?
I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me?
No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I
Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.
Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
I would not take this from report,
It is, and my heart breaks at it.
What, with the case of eyes?
O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, noM
in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a
light, yet you see how this world goes.
What, art mad? A man may see how the world goes with no eyes.
Look with thine ears. See how yon justice rails upon yon simple
thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which
is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer
dog bark at a beggar?
And the creature run from the cur? There tM
the great image of authority: a dog
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp
st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
d clothes great vices do appear;
d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
Arm it in rags, a pygmy
s straw does pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say nM
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
s lips. Get thee glass eyes,
And like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now:
Pull off my boots: harder, harder, so.
O, matter and impertinency mix
If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
I know thee well enough, thy name is Gloucester.
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither:
st the first time that we smell theM
We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
Alack, alack the day!
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools. This a good block:
It were a delicate stratagem to shoe
A troop of horse with felt. I
And when I have stol
n upon these son-in-laws,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
 Enter a Gentleman with
O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir,
Your most dear daughter
at, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;
I am cut to the brains.
You shall have anything.
No seconds? All myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
Ay, and for laying autumn
I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom.
What! I will be jovial. Come, come,
I am a king, my masters, know you that.
l one, and we obey you.
t. Come, and you get it,
You shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa!
 [_Exit running. Attendants follow._]
A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to.
Sir, speed you. What
Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
Everyone hears that, which can distinguish sound.
But, by your favour,
Near and on speedy foot; the main descry
Stands on the hourly thought.
I thank you sir, that
Though that the queen on special cause is here,
 [_Exit Gentleman._]
You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you pleaM
Well pray you, father.
Now, good sir, what are you?
A most poor man, made tame to fortune
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
ll lead you to some biding.
The bounty and the benison of heaven
d prize! Most happy!
That eyeless head of thine was first fram
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitM
Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out
That must destroy thee.
Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to
 [_Edgar interposes._]
Wherefore, bold peasant,
st thou support a publish
infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
Chill not let go, zir, without vurther
Let go, slave, or thou diest!
Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volke pass. An chud hM
bin zwaggered out of my life,
tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th
out, che vor ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the
harder: chill be plain with you.
Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins.
 [_They fight, and Edgar knocks him down._]
Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;
And give the letters which thou fM
To Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out
Upon the British party. O, untimely death!
I know thee well. A serviceable villain,
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire.
Sit you down, father; rest you.
s see these pockets; the letters that he speaks of
May be my friends. He
s dead; I am only sorry
He had no other deathsman. Let us see:
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not.
 minds, we rip their hearts,
Their papers is more lawful.
Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many
opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place
will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done if he return the
conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the
loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your
Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant,
A plot upon her virtuous husband
And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands
ll rake up, the post unsanctified
Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time,
With this ungracious paper strike the sight
Of the death-practis
That of thy death and business I can tell.
 [_Exit Edgar, dragging out the body._]
The King is mad: how stiff is my vile sense,
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge sorrows! Better I werM
So should my thoughts be sever
And woes by wrong imaginations lose
The knowledge of themselves.
 [_A drum afar off._]
Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.
ll bestow you with a friend.
SCENE VII. A Tent in the French Camp.
Lear on a bed, asleep, soft
music playing; Physician, Gentleman and others
 Enter Cordelia and Kent.
O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work
 thy goodness? My life will be too short,
And every measure fail me.
All my reports go with the modest truth;
These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
I prythee put them off.
Yet to be known shortens my made intent.
My boon I make it that you know me not
Till time and I think meet.
t so, my good lord. [_To the Physician._] How, doM
Madam, sleeps still.
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
d and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father.
So please your majesty
That we may wake the King: he hath slept long.
d by your knowledge, and proceed
 the sway of your own will. Is he array
Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep
We put fresh garments on him.
Be by, good madam, when we do awake hM
I doubt not of his temperance.
Please you draw near. Louder the music there!
O my dear father! Restoration hang
Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made!
Kind and dear princess!
Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face
d against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted tM
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick cross lightning? to watch, poor perdu!
With this thin helm? Mine enemy
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.
How does my royal lord? How fares yourM
You do me wrong to take me out o
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.
Sir, do you know me?
You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?
Still, still, far wide!
s scarce awake: let him alone awhile.
Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?
To see another thus. I know not what to saM
I will not swear these are my hands: let
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur
O, look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o
No, sir, you must not kneel.
Pray, do not mock me:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
And to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant
; and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.
Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray weep not:
If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
I know you do not love me; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong.
You have some cause, they have not.
your own kingdom, sir.
Be comforted, good madam, the great rage,
d in him: and yet it is danger
er the time he has lost.
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.
t please your highness walk?
You must bear with me:
Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.
 [_Exeunt Lear, Cordelia, Physician and Attendants._]
Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of M
Cornwall was so slain?
Who is conductor of his people?
tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent
Report is changeable.
Tis time to look about; the powers of
the kingdom approach apace.
The arbitrement is like to be bloody.
My point and period will be throughly wrought,
Or well or ill, as this day
SCENE I. The Camp of the British Forces near Dover.
 Enter, with drum and colours Edmund, Regan, Officers, Soldiers and
Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,
Or whether since he is advis
To change the course, he
s full of alteration
And self-reproving, bring his constant pleasure.
 [_To an Officer, who goes out._]
s man is certainly miscarried.
Tis to be doubted, madam.
You know the goodness I intend upon you:
Tell me but truly, but then speak the truth,
Do you not love my sister?
But have you never found my brother
To the forfended place?
That thought abuses you.
I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
d with her, as far as we call hers.
No, by mine honour, madam.
I never shall endure her, dear my lord,
Be not familiar with her.
She and the Duke her husband!
 Enter with drum and colours Albany, Goneril and Soldiers.
[_Aside._] I had rather lose the battle than that sister
Should loosen him and me.
Our very loving sister, well be-met.
Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his daughter,
With others whom the rigour of our state
d to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
I never yet was valiant. For this business,
It toucheth us as France invades our land,
Not bolds the King, with others whoM
Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
Sir, you speak nobly.
For these domestic and particular broils
Are not the question here.
s, then, determine with the ancient of war
I shall attend you presently at your tent.
Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.
 I know the riddle. I will go.
 [_Exeunt Edmund, Regan, Goneril, Officers, Soldiers and Attendants._]
 As they are going out, enter Edgar disguised.
er your grace had speech with man so poor,
ll overtake you. Speak.
Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
For him that brought it: wretched though I seem,
I can produce a champion that will prove
What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
ness of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune love you!
Stay till I have read the letter.
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
Why, fare thee well. I will o
s in view; draw up your powers.
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery; but your haste
To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
Each jealous of the other, as the stung
Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?
Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enjoy
If both remain alive. To take the widow
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
And hardly shall I carry out my side,
Her husband being alive. Now, then, we
His countenance for the battle; which being done,
Let her who would be rid of him devise
His speedy taking off. As for the M
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
The battle done, and they within our power,
Shall never see his pardon: for my state
Stands on me to defend, not to debate.
SCENE II. A field between the two Camps.
 Alarum within. Enter with drum and colours, Lear, Cordelia and their
 Forces, and exeunt.
 Enter Edgar and Gloucester.
Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
For your good host; pray that the right may thrive:
If ever I return to you again,
Grace go with you, sir!
 Alarum and retreat within. Enter Edgar.
Away, old man, give me thy hand, away!
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta
Give me thy hand; come on!
No further, sir; a man may rot even here.
What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence, even as their coming hither;
Ripeness is all. Come on.
SCENE III. The British Camp nearM
 Enter in conquest with drum and colours, Edmund, Lear and Cordelia
as prisoners; Officers, Soldiers, &c.
Some officers take them away: good guard
Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them.
We are not the first
Who with best meaning have incurr
For thee, oppressed King, I am cast down;
Myself could else out-frown false fortune
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
No, no, no, no. Come, let
We two alone will sing like birds i
When thou dost ask me blessing I
And ask of thee forgiveness. So we
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we
ll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who
s the mystery of things,
d prison, packs and sects of great ones
Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee?
He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,
And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes;
The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
Ere they shall make us weep!
em starve first: come.
 [_Exeunt Lear and Cordelia, guarded._]
Come hither, captain, hark.
Take thou this note [_giving a paper_]; go follow them to prison.
ne step I have advanc
d thee; if thou dost
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
To noble fortunes: know thou this, that men
Are as the time is; to be tender-minded
Does not become a sword. Thy great employment
Will not bear question; either say thou
Or thrive by other means.
About it; and write happy when thou hast done.
Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so
As I have set it down.
I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oatM
 Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril,
Regan, Officers and Attendants.
d today your valiant strain,
And fortune led you well: you have the captives
Who were the opposites of this day
I do require them of you, so to use them
As we shall find their merits and our safety
May equally determine.
Sir, I thought it fit
To send the old and miserable King
To some retention and appointed guard;
s charms in it, whose title more,
To pluck the common bosom on his side,
And turn our impress
d lances in our eyes
Which do command them. With him I sent the queen;
My reason all the same; and they are ready
Tomorrow, or at further space, to appear
Where you shall hold your session. At this time
We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;
And the best quarrels in the heat are curs
By those that feel their sharpness.
The question of Cordelia and her father
Requires a fitter place.
Sir, by your patience,
I hold you but a subject of this war,
s as we list to grace him.
Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded
Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers;
Bore the commission of my place and person;
The which immediacy may well stand up
And call itself your brother.
In his own grace he doth exalt himself,
More than in your addition.
By me invested, he compeers the best.
he most, if he should husband you.
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
That eye that told you so look
Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
From a full-flowing stomach. General,
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
Witness the world that I create thee here
Mean you to enjoy him?
The let-alone lies not in your good will.
Half-blooded fellow, yes.
[_To Edmund._] Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
Stay yet; hear reason: Edmund, I arrest thee
On capital treason; and, in thine arrest,
This gilded serpent. [_pointing to Goneril._]
For your claim, fair sister,
I bar it in the interest of my wife;
Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
And I her husband contradict your bans.
If you will marry, make your loves to me,
d, Gloucester. Let the trumpet sound:
If none appear to prove upon thy person
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
There is my pledge. [_Throwing down a glove._]
ll make it on thy heart,
Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
Than I have here proclaim
[_Aside._] If not, I
s my exchange. [_Throwing down a glove._]
What in the world he is
That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.
l by thy trumpet: he that dares approach,
On him, on you, who not? I will maintain
My truth and honour firmly.
Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge.
My sickness grows upon me.
She is not well. Convey her to my tent.
 [_Exit Regan, led._]
Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound
 [_A trumpet sounds._]
If any man of quality or degree within the lists of
the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloucester,
that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by the third sound
of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence.
 [_Second trumpet._]
 Third trumpet. Trumpet answers within. Enter Edgar, armed, preceded by
Ask him his purposes, why he appears
Your name, your quality? and why you answer
This present summons?
Know my name is lost;
s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit.
Yet am I noble as the adversary
Which is that adversary?
s he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of Gloucester?
That if my speech offend a noble heart,
Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine.
Behold, it is the privilege ofM
My oath, and my profession: I protest,
Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor;
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
gainst this high illustrious prince;
And, from the extremest upward of thy head
To the descent and dust beneath thy foot,
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent
To prove upon thy heart, whereM
In wisdom I should ask thy name;
But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,
And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,
What safe and nicely I might well delay
By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn.
Back do I toss those treasons to thy head,
With the hell-hated lie o
Which for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise,
This sword of mine shall give them instant way,
Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak!
fight. Edmund falls._]
This is mere practice, Gloucester:
By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish
Shut your mouth, dame,
Or with this paper shall I stop it. Hold, sir;
Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.
No tearing, lady; I perceive you know it.
 [_Gives the letter to Edmund._]
Say if I do, the laws are mine, not thine:
Who can arraign me fM
Ask me not what I know.
[_To an Officer, who goes out._] Go after her; she
d me with, that have I done;
And more, much more; the time will bring it out.
Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou
That hast this fortune on me? If thou
I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
If more, the more thou hast wrong
My name is Edgar and thy father
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us:
The dark and vicious place where thee he got
Thou hast spoken right,
The wheel is come full circle; I am here.
Methought thy very gait did prophesy
A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.
Let sorrow split my heart if ever I
Did hate thee or thy father.
Worthy prince, I know
Where have you hid yourself?
How have you known the miseries of your father?
By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale;
tis told, O that my heart would burst!
The bloody proclamation to escape
That with the pain of death we
Rather than die at once!
That very dogs disdain
d; and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
heir precious stones new lost; became his guide,
Until some half hour past, when I was arm
Not sure, though hoping of this good success,
d his blessing, and from first to last
Told him my pilgrimage. But his flaw
Alack, too weak the conflict to support!
Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
This speech of yours hath mov
nce do good, but speak you on;
You look as you had something more to say.
If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;
For I am almost ready to dissolve,
This would have seem
To such as love not sorrow; but another,
To amplify too much, would make much more,
Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man
Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
d society; but then finding
He fastened on my neck, and bellow
d burst heaven; threw him on my father;
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
That ever ear receiv
d, which in recounting
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded,
And there I left him tranc
Kent, sir, the banish
d Kent; who in disguise
d his enemy king and did him service
Improper for a slave.
 Enter a Gentleman hastily,
Help, help! O, help!
What means this bloody knife?
It came even from the heart of
Who dead? Speak, man.
Your lady, sir, your lady; and her sister
By her is poisoned; she hath confesses it.
I was contracted to them both, all three
Now marry in an instant.
bodies, be they alive or dead.
This judgement of the heavens that makes us tremble
Touches us not with pity. O, is this he?
The time will not allow the compliment
Which very manners urges.
To bid my King and master aye good night:
Great thing of us forgot!
Speak, Edmund, where
s the King? and where
 The bodies of Goneril and
Regan are brought in.
Seest thou this object, Kent?
Yet Edmund was belov
The one the other poisoned for my sake,
And after slew herself.
Even so. Cover their faces.
I pant for life. Some good I mean to do,
Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,
Be brief in it, to the castle; for my writ
Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia;
To who, my lord? Who has the office? Send
Thy token of reprieve.
Well thought on: take my sword,
Give it the captain.
Haste thee for thy life.
He hath commission from thy wife and me
To hang Cordelia in the prison, and
To lay the blame upon her own despair,
That she fordid herself.
The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.
 [_Edmund is borne off._]
 Enter Lear with Cordelia dead in his arms; Edgar,
Officer and others following.
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stone.
Had I your tongues and eyes, I
s vault should crack. She
hen one is dead, and when one lives;
s dead as earth. Lend me a looking glass;
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
Why, then she lives.
Or image of that horror?
This feather stirs; she lives! If it be so,
It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
That ever I have felt.
O, my good master! [_Kneeling._]
Tis noble Kent, your friend.
you, murderers, traitors all!
Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
st? Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
d the slave that was a-hanging thee.
Tis true, my lords, he did.
I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
I would have made them skip. I am old now,
And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
ll tell you straight.
If Fortune brag of two she lov
One of them we behold.
This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?
Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?
s a good fellow, I can tell you that;
ll strike, and quickly too:. He
No, my good lord; I am the very man.
ll see that straight.
That from your first of difference and decay
u are welcome hither.
Nor no man else. All
s cheerless, dark and deadly.
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,
And desperately are dead.
He knows not what he says; and vain is it
That we present us to him.
Edmund is dead, my lord.
s but a trifle here.
You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decay may come
Shall be applied For us, we will reM
During the life of this old majesty,
To him our absolute power;
[_to Edgar and Kent_] you to your rights;
With boot and such addition as your honours
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue and all foes
The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!
And my poor fool is hang
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou
Never, never, never, never, never!
Pray you undo this button. Thank you,M
Do you see this? Look on her: look, her lips,
Look there, look there!
He faints! My lord, my lord!
Break, heart; I prythee break!
Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! He hates him
That would upon the rack of this rough world
Stretch him out longer.
The wonder is, he hath endur
Bear them from hence. Our present business
Is general woe. [_TM
o Edgar and Kent._] Friends of my soul, you twain,
Rule in this realm and the gor
I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
My master calls me, I must not say no.
The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most; we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
 [_Exeunt with a dead march._]
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Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God:h!
text/plain;charset=utf-8
1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodnesLhs and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.h!
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Copyright (c) 1998 Hewlett-Packard Company
IEC http://www.iec.ch
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IEC http://www.iec.ch
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.IEC 61966-2.1 Default RGB colour space - sRGB
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,Reference Viewing Condition in IEC61966-2.1
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Copyright (c) 1998 Hewlett-Packard Company
IEC http://www.iec.ch
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.IEC 61966-2.1 Default RGB colour space - sRGB
.IEC 61966-2.1 Default RGB colour space - sRGB
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CAESAR
by William Shakespeare
Scene I. Rome. A street.
Scene II. The same. A public place.
Scene III. The same. A street.
Scene I. Rome. Brutus
Scene II. A room in Caesar
Scene III. A street near the Capitol.
Scene IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus.
Scene I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting.
Scene II. The same. The Forum.
Scene III. The same. A street.
Scene II. Before Brutus
 tent, in the camp near Sardis.
Scene III. Within the tent of Brutus.
Scene I. The plains of Philippi.
Scene II. The same. The field of battle.
Scene III. Another part of the field.
Scene IV. Another part of the field.
Scene V. Another part of the field.
OCTAVIUS CAESAR, Triumvir after his death.
MARCUS ANTONIUS,
M. AEMILIUS LEPIDUS,
CICERO, PUBLIUS, POPILIUS LM
MARCUS BRUTUS, Conspirator against Caesar.
METELLUS CIMBER,
ARTEMIDORUS, a Sophist of Cnidos.
LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, young CATO, and VOLUMNIUS, Friends to
VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STM
RATO, LUCIUS, DARDANIUS, Servants to Brutus
PINDARUS, Servant to Cassius
CALPHURNIA, wife to Caesar
PORTIA, wife to Brutus
Senators, Citizens, Soldiers, Commoners, Messengers, and Servants.
SCENE: Rome, the conspirators
 camp near Sardis, and the plains of
SCENE I. Rome. A street.
 Enter Flavius, Marullus and a throng of Citizens.
Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home.
Is this a holiday? What, know you not,
, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day without the sign
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
Why, sir, a carpenter.
Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
You, sir, what trade are you?
Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a
But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience, which is
sir, a mender of bad soles.
What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what trade?
Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me; yet, if you be out, sir, I
st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!
Why, sir, cobble you.
Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl; I meddle with no
s matters, nor women
s matters, but withal I am indeed, sir,
hoes: when they are in great danger, I recover them.
As proper men as ever trod upon neat
s leather have gone upon my
But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But
indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his
Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bM
onds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
d up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong 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 Tiber trembled underneath her baM
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 cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault
Assemble all the poor men of your sort,
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tearM
Into the channel, till the lowest stream
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
 [_Exeunt Citizens._]
See whether their basest metal be not mov
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
You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
It is no matter; let no images
And drive away the vulgar M
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
SCENE II. The same. A public place.
 Enter, in procession, with music, Caesar; Antony, for the course;
 Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius and Casca; a great
 crowd following, among them a Soothsayer.
Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
Stand you directly in Antonius
When he doth run his course. Antonius.
Forget not in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia; for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.
Set on; and leave no ceremony out.
Bid every noise be still; peace yet again!
Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the music,
! Speak. Caesar is turn
Beware the Ides of March.
A soothsayer bids you beware the Ides of March.
Set him before me; let me see his face.
Fellow, come from the throng; looM
st thou to me now? Speak once again.
Beware the Ides of March.
He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass.
 [_Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius._]
Will you go see the order of the course?
I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
Brutus, I do observe you now oM
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 deceived: if I have veil
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 behaviors;
But let not therefore my good friends be grieved
(Among which number, Cassius, be yM
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.
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?
No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself
But by reflection, by some other thing.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirM
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 Caesar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age
d that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?
Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear;
And since you know you cannot see yourself
 as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous on 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.
 [_Flourish and shout._]
What means this shouting? I do fear the people
Choose Caesar for their king.
Then must I think you would not have it so.
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
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.
I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
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 Caesar; so were you;
We both have fed as well, and we can both
s cold as well as he:
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into M
And swim to yonder point?
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bade him follow: so indeed he did.
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
Help me, Cassius, or I sink!
I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
Did I the tired Caesar. M
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on him I did mark
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,
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.
 [_Shout. Flourish._]
Another general shout?
I do believe that these applauses are
For some new honours that are heap
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
 time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
: what should be in that
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
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
 will start a spirit as soon as
Now in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our CaeM
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age since the great flood,
d with more than with one man?
When could they say, till now, that talk
That her wide walls encompass
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
 eternal devil to keep his sM
As easily as a king!
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,
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 bM
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these hard conditions as this time
Is like to lay upon us.
I am glad that my weak words
Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
 Enter Caesar and his Train.
The games are done, and Caesar is returning.
As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note today.
I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,
The angry spot doth gloM
And all the rest look like a chidden train:
s cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes
As we have seen him in the Capitol,
d in conference by some senators.
Casca will tell us what the matter is.
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
Fear him not, Caesar; he
He is a noble Roman and well given.
Would he were fatter! But I fear him not:
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
o smile at anything.
Such men as he be never at heart
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear
Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar.
Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
And tell me truly what thou think
 [_Exeunt Caesar and his Train. Casca stays._]
d me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanc
Why, you were with him, were you not?
I should not then ask Casca what had chanc
Why, there was a crown offer
d him; and being offer
with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a-shouting.
What was the second noise for?
They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than
other; and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted.
Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
I can as well be hang
d, 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 one of these coronets; and, as I told you, he put
it by once: but, for all that, to my thinking, he woM
it. Then he offered it to him again: then he put it by again: but, to
my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he
offered it the third time; he put it the third time by; and still, as
d it, the rabblement hooted, and clapp
d their chopt hands,
and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of
stinking breath because Caesar refus
d the crown, that it had, almost,
choked Caesar, for he swooned, and fell down at it. And for mine own
, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiving the
But, soft! I pray you. What, did Caesar swoon?
He fell down in the market-place, and foam
Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness.
No, Caesar hath it not; but you, and I,
And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness.
I know not what you mean by that; but I am sure Caesar fell down. If
the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, aM
pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the
theatre, I am no true man.
What said he when he came unto himself?
Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad
he refused the crown, he pluck
d me ope his doublet, and offer
his throat to cut. And 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 saiM
had done or said anything amiss, he desir
d their worships to think it
was his infirmity. Three or four wenches where I stood cried,
 and forgave him with all their hearts. But there
to be taken of them: if Caesar had stabb
d their mothers, they would
And, after that, he came thus sad away?
Did Cicero say anything?
Nay, and I tell you tM
 the face again. But
those that understood him smil
d 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 off Caesar
put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could
Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?
Will you dine with me tomorrow?
 and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the
Good. I will expect you.
Do so; farewell both.
What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
He was quick mettle when he went to school.
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
With better appetite.
And so it is. For this time I will leave yM
Tomorrow, 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.
I will do so: till then, think of the world.
Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet I see,
Thy honourable metal may be wrought
From that it is dispos
That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
For who so firm that cannot be seduc
Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were CassM
He should not humour me. I will this night,
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
s ambition shall be glanced at.
And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,
For we will shake him, or worse days endure.
SCENE III. The same. A street.
 Thunder and lightning. Enter, from opposite sides, Casca with his
 sword drawn, and Cicero.
ven, Casca: brought you Caesar home?
Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
d the knotty oaks; and I have seen
 ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,
To be exalted with the threatening clouds:
But never till tonight, never till now,
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
Or else the world too saucM
Incenses them to send destruction.
Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
d know him well by sight,
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty torches join
d, and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire remain
 not since put up my sword,
Against the Capitol I met a lion,
Who glared upon me, and went surly by,
Without annoying me. And there were drawn
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,
 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 noonday upon the marketplace,
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.
Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time.
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the thM
Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
He doth, for he did bid Antonius
Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
Goodnight then, Casca: this disturbed sky
Casca, by your voice.
Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
A very pleasing night to honest men.
Who ever knew the heavens menM
Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
For my part, I have walk
d about the streets,
Submitting me unto the perilous night;
And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
d my bosom to the thunder-stone;
And when the cross blue lightning seem
The breast of heaven, I did present myself
Even in the aim and very flash of it.
But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heavens?
It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
When the most mighty gods by tokenM
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life
That should be in a Roman you do want,
Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze,
And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the Heavens:
But if you would consider the true cause
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
Why birds and beasts, from quality and kind;
Why old men, fools, and children calculate,
Why all these things change from their ordinance,
Their natures, and pre-formed faculties,
To monstrous quality; why, you shall find
That Heaven hath infus
d them with these spirits,
To make them instruments of fear and warning
Unto some monstrous state.
Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
Most like this dreadful night,
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars,
As doth the lion in the Capitol;
A man no mightier than thyself, or me,
In personal action; yet prodigious grown,
And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
ar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors;
But, woe the while! our fathers
Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow
Mean to establish Caesar as a king;
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,
In every place, save here in Italy.
I know where I will wear this dagger then;
 bondage will deliver Cassius:
Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
If I know this, know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny that I do bear
I can shake off at pleasure.
n his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.
And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf,
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep:
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
For the base matter to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief,
Where hast thou led me? I, perhaps, speak this
 bondman: then I know
My answer must be made; but I am arm
And dangers are to me indifferent.
You speak to Casca, and to such a man
That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand:
Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
And I will set this foot of mine as far
As who goes farthest.
Now know you, Casca, I have mov
Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
To undergo with me an enterprise
Of honourable-dangerous consequence;
 by this, they stay for me
s Porch: for now, this fearful night,
There is no stir or walking in the streets;
And the complexion of the element
s like the work we have in hand,
Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait;
He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
To find out you. Who
s that? Metellus Cimber?
No, it is Casca, one incorporM
To our attempts. Am I not stay
t. What a fearful night is this!
s two or three of us have seen strange sights.
Yes, you are. O Cassius, if you could
But win the noble Brutus to our party
Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
And look you lay it in the praetor
Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
In at his window; set this up with wax
s Porch, where you shall find us.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
All but Metellus Cimber, and he
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
That done, repair to Pompey
Come, Casca, you and I will yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his house: three parts of him
Is ours already, and the man entire
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours.
gh in all the people
And that which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchemy,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited. Let us go,
For it is after midnight; and ere day,
We will awake him, and be sure of him.
SCENE I. Rome. Brutus
I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
Give guess how near tM
I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!
Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:
When it is lighted, come and call me here.
It must be by his death: and for my part,
I know no personal cause to spurn at him,
But for the general. He would be crown
How that might change his nature, there
bright day that brings forth the adder,
And that craves wary walking. Crown him?
And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
That at his will he may do danger with.
 abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remorse from power; and, to speak truth of Caesar,
I have not known when his affections sway
More than his reason. But
That lowliness is young ambition
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
But when he once attains the upmost round,
e ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend. So Caesar may;
Then lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrel
Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented,
Would run to these and these extremities:
And therefore think him as a serpent
d, would, as his kind grow mischievous;
And kill him in the shell.
The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
Searching the window for a M
This paper, thus seal
It did not lie there when I went to bed.
 [_Gives him the letter._]
Get you to bed again; it is not day.
Is not tomorrow, boy, the Ides of March?
Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
The exhalations, whizzing in the air
Give so much light that I may read by them.
 [_Opens the letter and reads._]
st: awake and see thyM
Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress!_
Such instigations have been often dropp
Where I have took them up.
 Thus must I piece it out:
Shall Rome stand under one man
My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
The Tarquin drive, when he was call
Speak, strike, redress!
To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
If the redress will follow, thou receivest
Thy full petition at theM
Sir, March is wasted fifteen days.
Tis good. Go to the gate, somebody knocks.
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
The genius and the mortal instruments
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurM
tis your brother Cassius at the door,
Who doth desire to see you.
No, sir, there are moe with him.
No, sir, their hats are pluck
And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
That by no means I may discover them
By any mark of favour.
They are the faction. O conspiracy,
st thou to show thy dangerous brow byM
When evils are most free? O, then, by day
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy;
Hide it in smiles and affability:
For if thou path, thy native semblance on,
Not Erebus itself were dim enough
To hide thee from prevention.
 Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cimber and Trebonius.
I think we are too bold upon your rest:
Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?
I have been up this hour, awake all night.
I these men that come along with you?
Yes, every man of them; and no man here
But honours you; and everyone doth wish
You had but that opinion of yourself
Which every noble Roman bears of you.
He is welcome hither.
This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.
They are all welcome.
What watchful cares do interpose themselves
Betwixt your eyes and night?
Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?
O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon grey lines
That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
You shall confess that you are both deceiv
Here, as I point my sword, the Sun arises;
Which is a great way growing on the South,
Weighing the youthful season of the year.
Some two months hence, up higher toward the North
He first presents his fire; and the high East
 Capitol, directly here.
Give me your hands all over, one by one.
And let us swear our resolution.
No, not an oath. If not the face of men,
The sufferance of our souls, the time
If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed.
So let high-sighted tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour
The melting spirits of women; then, M
What need we any spur but our own cause
To prick us to redress? what other bond
Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will not palter? and what other oath
Than honesty to honesty engag
That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests and cowards, and men cautelous,
Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls
That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
The even virtue of our enterprise,
 insuppressive mettle of M
To think that or our cause or our performance
Did need an oath; when every drop of blood
That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a several bastardy,
If he do break the smallest particle
Of any promise that hath pass
But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
I think he will stand very strong with us.
Let us not leave him out.
O, let us have him, for his silver hairs
Will purchase us a good opinion,
s voices to commend our deeds.
It shall be said, his judgment rul
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
But all be buried in his gravity.
O, name him not; let us not break with him;
For he will never follow anything
That other men begin.
Indeed, he is not fit.
Shall no man else be touch
d. I think it is not meet,
Mark Antony, so well belov
uld outlive Caesar: we shall find of him
A shrewd contriver; and you know, his means,
If he improve them, may well stretch so far
As to annoy us all; which to prevent,
Let Antony and Caesar fall together.
Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs,
Like wrath in death, and envy afterwards;
For Antony is but a limb of Caesar.
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar,
And in the spirit of men thM
O, that we then could come by Caesar
And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,
Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,
s kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
s carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
And after seem to chide
Our purpose necessary, and not envious;
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
d purgers, not murderers.
And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
For he can do no more than Caesar
For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar
Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Caesar, all that he can do
Is to himself; take thought and die for Caesar.
And that were much he should; for he is given
To sports, to wildness, and much company.
There is no fear in him; let him not die;
 live, and laugh at this hereafter.
Peace! count the clock.
The clock hath stricken three.
But it is doubtful yet
Whether Caesar will come forth today or no;
For he is superstitious grown of late,
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies.
It may be these apparent prodigies,
d terror of this night,
And the persuasion of his augurers,
May hold him from the CapM
Never fear that: if he be so resolved,
ersway him, for he loves to hear
That unicorns may be betray
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
He says he does, being then most flattered.
For I can give his humour the true bent,
And I will bring him to the Capitol.
Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
By the eighth hour: is thM
Be that the uttermost; and fail not then.
Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder none of you have thought of him.
Now, good Metellus, go along by him:
He loves me well, and I have given him reason;
Send him but hither, and I
The morning comes upon
ll leave you, Brutus.
And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember
What you have said, and show yourselves true M
Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
Let not our looks put on our purposes,
But bear it as our Roman actors do,
With untired spirits and formal constancy.
And so, good morrow to you everyone.
 [_Exeunt all but Brutus._]
Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
Therefore thou sleep
ia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?
It is not for your health thus to commit
Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
Nor for yours neither. Y
 have ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walk
Musing and sighing, with your arms across;
d you what the matter was,
d upon me with ungentle looks.
d you further; then you scratch
And too impatiently stamp
t I insisted, yet you answer
But with an angry wafture of your hand
Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
d too much enkindled; and withal
Hoping it was but an effect of humour,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep;
And could it work so much upon your shape
As it hath much prevail
d on your condition,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of griefM
I am not well in health, and that is all.
Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,
He would embrace the means to come by it.
Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
Is Brutus sick, and is it physical
To walk unbraced and suck up the humours
Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed
To dare the vile contagion of the night,
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;
sick offence within your mind,
Which, by the right and virtue of my place,
I ought to know of: and, upon my knees,
I charm you, by my once commended beauty,
By all your vows of love, and that great vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, your self, your half,
Why you are heavy, and what men tonight
Have had resort to you; for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Kneel not, gentle Portia.
I should not need, if you wM
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
Is it excepted I should know no secrets
That appertain to you? Am I your self
But, as it were, in sort or limitation,
To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs
Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
 harlot, not his wife.
You are my true and honourable wife,
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.
If this were true, theM
n should I know this secret.
I grant I am a woman; but withal
A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife;
I grant I am a woman; but withal
A woman well reputed, Cato
Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose
I have made strong proof of my constancy,
Giving myself a voluntary wound
Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience
Render me worthy of this nM
Hark, hark, one knocks. Portia, go in awhile;
And by and by thy bosom shall partake
The secrets of my heart.
All my engagements I will construe to thee,
All the charactery of my sad brows.
Leave me with haste.
 Enter Lucius with Ligarius.
Here is a sick man that would speak with you.
Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?
Vouchsafe good-morrow from M
O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!
I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome!
Brave son, derived from honourable loins!
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjur
My mortified spirit. Now bM
And I will strive with things impossible,
Yea, get the better of them. What
A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
But are not some whole that we must make sick?
That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it must be done.
And with a heart new-fir
To do I know not what; but it sufficeth
That Brutus leads me on.
SCENE II. A room in Caesar
 Thunder and lightning. Enter Caesar, in his nightgown.
Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace tonight:
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out,
Help, ho! They murder Caesar!
Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of success.
, Caesar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stir out of your house today.
Caesar shall forth. The things that threaten
d but on my back; when they shall see
The face of Caesar, they are vanished.
Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
A lioness hath whelped in the streets,
And graves have yawn
d, and yielded up theiM
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds
In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;
The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,
And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.
O Caesar, these things are beyond all use,
d by the mighty gods?
Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions
Are to the world in general as to Caesar.
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
What say the augurers?
They would not have you to stir forth today.
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,
They could not find a heart within the beast.
The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
Caesar should be a beast without a heart
If he should stay at home today for fear.
No, Caesar shall not. Danger knows full well
That Caesar is more dangerous than he.
We are two lions litter
And I the elder and more terrible,
And Caesar shall go forth.
Your wisdom is consum
Do not go forth today: call it my fear
That keeps you in the house, anM
ll send Mark Antony to the Senate-house,
And he shall say you are not well today.
Let me upon my knee prevail in this.
Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
And for thy humour, I will stay at home.
s Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar.
I come to fetch you to the Senate-house.
And you are come in very happy time
To bear my greeting to the Senators,
And tell them that I will not cM
Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser:
I will not come today. Tell them so, Decius.
Shall Caesar send a lie?
Have I in conquest stretch
To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth?
Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.
Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
d at when I tell them so.
The cause is in my will; I will not come.
That is enough to satisfy the Senate.
private satisfaction,
Because I love you, I will let you know:
Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home.
She dreamt tonight she saw my statue,
Which like a fountain with an hundred spouts
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it.
And these does she apply for warnings and portents
And evils imminent; and on her knee
d that I will stay at home today.
This dream is all amiss interpreted:
It was a vision fair and fortunate.
spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath
Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
Reviving blood, and that great men shall press
For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance.
s dream is signified.
And this way have you well expounded it.
I have, when you have heard what I can say;
And know it now. The Senate have concluded
To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
y change. Besides, it were a mock
d, for someone to say,
Break up the Senate till another time,
s wife shall meet with better dreams.
If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper
Lo, Caesar is afraid
Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love
To your proceeding bids me tell you this,
And reason to my love is liable.
How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia!
I am ashamed I did yield to them.
Give me my robe, for I will go.
garius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius, Cinna and Publius.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
Good morrow, Caesar.
What, Brutus, are you stirr
Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,
er so much your enemy
As that same ague which hath made you lean.
I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
See! Antony, that revels long a-nights,
otwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
So to most noble Caesar.
Bid them prepare within.
I am to blame to be thus waited for.
Now, Cinna; now, Metellus; what, Trebonius!
s talk in store for you:
Remember that you call on me today;
Be near me, that I may remember you.
Caesar, I will. [_Aside._] and so near will I be,
That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me;
And we, like friends, M
will straightway go together.
[_Aside._] That every like is not the same, O Caesar,
The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon.
SCENE III. A street near the Capitol.
 Enter Artemidorus, reading a paper.
Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca;
have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well Metellus Cimber;
Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast wrong
d Caius Ligarius. There
is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent M
st not immortal, look about you: security gives way to
conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee!
Thy lover, Artemidorus.
Here will I stand till Caesar pass along,
And as a suitor will I give him this.
My heart laments that virtue cannot live
Out of the teeth of emulation.
If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live;
If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.
SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus.
 Enter Portia and LuciuM
ythee, boy, run to the Senate-house;
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
To know my errand, madam.
I would have had thee there and here again,
Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.
[_Aside._] O constancy, be strong upon my side,
Set a huge mountain
tween my heart and tongue!
How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
Madam, what should I do?
o the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?
Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
For he went sickly forth: and take good note
What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
Hark, boy, what noise is that?
I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
 Enter the Soothsayer.
Come hither, fellow:
At mine own house, good lady.
About the ninth hour, lady.
Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
Madam, not yet. I go to take my stand,
To see him pass on to the Capitol.
Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
That I have, lady, if it will please Caesar
To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
s intended towards him?
None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.
Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow.
The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,
Of Senators, of Praetors, common suitors,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:
ll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.
[_Aside._] Ay me, how weak a thing
The heart of woman is! O Brutus,
The heavens speed thee in thine enterpriseM
Sure, the boy heard me. Brutus hath a suit
That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint.
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
Say I am merry; come to me again,
And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting.
 A crowd of people in the street leading to the Capitol. Flourish.
 Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius,
 Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Artemidorus, Publius, Popilius and the
The Ides of March are come.
Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
Hail, Caesar! Read this schedule.
Trebonius doth desire you to o
At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
O Caesar, read mine first; for mine
That touches Caesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar.
What touches us ourself shall be last serv
Delay not, Caesar. Read it instantly.
What, is the fellow mad?
What, urge you your petitions in the street?
Come to the Capitol.
Caesar enters the Capitol, the rest following. All the Senators rise.
I wish your enterprise today may thrive.
What enterprise, Popilius?
 [_Advances to Caesar._]
What said Popilius Lena?
d today our enterprise might thrive.
I fear our purpose is discovered.
Look how he makes to Caesar: mark him.
 be sudden, for we fear prevention.
Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,
Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,
For I will slay myself.
Cassius, be constant:
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;
For look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
Trebonius knows his time, for look you, Brutus,
He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
 [_Exeunt Antony and Trebonius. Caesar and the Senators take their
Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,
y prefer his suit to Caesar.
d; press near and second him.
Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
Are we all ready? What is now amiss
That Caesar and his Senate must redress?
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar,
Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat
I must prevent thee, Cimber.
These couchings and these lowly courtesies
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turn pre-ordinanM
Into the law of children. Be not fond,
To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood
d from the true quality
With that which melteth fools; I mean sweet words,
Low-crooked curtsies, and base spaniel fawning.
Thy brother by decree is banished:
If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
Know, Caesar dost not wrong, nor without cause
Will he be satisfied.
Is there no voice more worthy than my own,
eetly in great Caesar
For the repealing of my banish
I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar;
Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may
Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon:
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,
To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
d, if I were as you;
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:
But I am constant as the northern star,
d and resting quality
There is no fellow in the firmament.
The skies are painted with unnumber
They are all fire, and every one doth shine;
s but one in all doth hold his place.
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;
Yet in the number I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
d of motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little show it, even in this,
That I was constant Cimber should be banish
And constant do remain to keep him so.
Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
Speak, hands, for me!
 [_Casca stabs Caesar in the neck. Caesar catches hold of his arm. He
 is then stabbed by several other Conspirators, and at last by Marcus
 [_Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion._]
Liberty! Freedom! TyrannM
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
Some to the common pulpits and cry out,
Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!
People and Senators, be not affrighted.
Fly not; stand still; ambition
Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar
nding. Publius, good cheer!
There is no harm intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else. So tell them, Publius.
And leave us, Publius; lest that the people
Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
Do so; and let no man abide this deed
Fled to his house amaz
Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run,
As it were doomsday.
Fates, we will know your pleasures.
And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
s friends, that have abridg
His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,
And let us bathe our hands in Caesar
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:
Then walk we forth, even to the market-place,
And waving our red weapons o
Peace, freedom, and liberty!
Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In States unborn, and accents yet unknown!
How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
No worthier than the dust!
So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be call
The men that gave their country liberty.
What, shall we forth?
 lead; and we will grace his heels
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony
Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down;
And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:
Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest;
Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving;
Say I love Brutus and I honour him;
If Brutus will vouchsafe that AntoM
May safely come to him, and be resolv
How Caesar hath deserv
Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead
So well as Brutus living; but will follow
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state,
With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
I never thought him worse.
Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
He shall be satisfied and, by my honour,
I know that we shall have him well to friend.
I wish we may: but yet have I a mind
That fears him much; and my misgiving still
Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony.
O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.
I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who elsM
If I myself, there is no hour so fit
s hour; nor no instrument
Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich
With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,
Fulfill your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I shall not find myself so apt to die.
No place will please me so, no means of death,
As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age.
ntony, beg not your death of us.
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
As by our hands and this our present act
You see we do; yet see you but our hands
And this the bleeding business they have done.
Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful;
And pity to the general wrong of Rome
As fire drives out fire, so pity pity
Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,
To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony;
Our arms in strength of malice, and our hearts
 temper, do receive yM
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
Your voice shall be as strong as any man
In the disposing of new dignities.
Only be patient till we have appeas
The multitude, beside themselves with fear,
And then we will deliver you the cause
Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,
Have thus proceeded.
I doubt not of your wisdom.
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;
Next, Caius Cassius, do I take youM
Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus;
Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;
Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.
alas, what shall I say?
My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
Either a coward or a flatterer.
That I did love thee, Caesar, O,
If then thy spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody finM
Most noble, in the presence of thy corse?
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay
Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,
d in thy spoil, and crimson
O world, thou wast the forest to this hart;
And this indeed, O world, the heart of thee.
How like a deer strucken by manM
Pardon me, Caius Cassius:
The enemies of Caesar shall say this;
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
I blame you not for praising Caesar so;
But what compact mean you to have with us?
d in number of our friends,
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
Therefore I took your hands; but was indeed
d from the point, by looking down on Caesar.
Friends am I with you all, and love you all,
Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons
Why, and wherein, Caesar was dangerous.
Or else were this a savage spectacle.
Our reasons are so full of good regard
That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,
You should be satisfied.
And am moreover suitor that I may
Produce his body to the market-place;
And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,
Speak in the order of his funeral.
You shall, Mark Antony.
Brutus, a word with you.
tus._] You know not what you do. Do not consent
That Antony speak in his funeral.
Know you how much the people may be mov
By that which he will utter?
[_Aside to Cassius._] By your pardon:
I will myself into the pulpit first,
And show the reason of our Caesar
What Antony shall speak, I will protest
He speaks by leave and by permission;
And that we are contented Caesar shall
Have all true rights and lawful ceremonies.
It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
 to Brutus._] I know not what may fall; I like it not.
Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
But speak all good you can devise of Caesar,
t by our permission;
Else shall you not have any hand at all
About his funeral. And you shall speak
In the same pulpit whereto I am going,
After my speech is ended.
I do desire no more.
Prepare the body, then, and follow us.
 [_Exeunt all but Antony._]
O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers.
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,
Which, like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue,
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use,M
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war;
d with custom of fell deeds:
s spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from Hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.
You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
He did receive his letters, and is coming,
And bid me say to you by word of mouth,
[_Seeing the body._] O Caesar!
Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep.
Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes,
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy master coming?
He lies tonight within seven leagues of Rome.
Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanc
re is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of safety for Octavius yet.
Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay awhile;
Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse
Into the market-place: there shall I try,
In my oration, how the people take
The cruel issue of these bloody men;
According to the which thou shalt discourse
To young Octavius of the state of things.
 [_Exeunt with Caesar
SCENE II. The same. The Forum.
 Enter Brutus and goes into the pulpit, and CasM
sius, with a throng of
We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.
Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.
Cassius, go you into the other street
And part the numbers.
Those that will hear me speak, let
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;
And public reasons shall be rendered
I will hear Brutus speak.
I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons,
When severally we hear them renderM
 [_Exit Cassius, with some of the Citizens. Brutus goes into the
The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
Be patient till the last.
Romans, countrymen, and lovers, hear me for my cause; and be silent,
that you may hear. Believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine
honour, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom, and awake your
senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this
assembly, any dear friend of Caesar
s, to him I say thatM
to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus
rose against Caesar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less,
but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die
all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar
loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he
was valiant, I honour him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There
is tears, for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and
death, for his ambition. Who is here so base, that would be a bondman?
If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would
not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so
vile, that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I
offended. I pause for a reply.
Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar than you shall
do to Brutus. The question of his death is enroll
d in the Capitol, his
 extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc
for which he suffered death.
 Enter Antony and others, with Caesar
Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, who, though he had no hand
in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the
commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart, that, as I
slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for
myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
Give him a statue with his ancestors.
ll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours.
Peace! Silence! Brutus speaks.
Good countrymen, let me depart alone,
And, for my sake, stay here with AntM
s corpse, and grace his speech
s glories, which Mark Antony,
By our permission, is allow
I do entreat you, not a man depart,
Save I alone, till Antony have spoke.
Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
Let him go up into the public chair.
ll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
 sake, I am beholding to you.
What does he say of Brutus?
He finds himself beholding to us all.
Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here!
This Caesar was a tyrant.
We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
Peace, ho! let us hear him.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
il that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,
For Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all, all honourable men,
Come I to speak in Caesar
He was my friend, faithful and just to me;
But Brutus says he was ambitious,
And Brutus is an honourable man.
rought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And sure he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
ut here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me.
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
If thou consider rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong.
will a worse come in his place.
d ye his words? He would not take the crown;
tis certain he was not ambitious.
If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
Now mark him; he begins again to speak.
But yesterday the word of Caesar might
Have stood against the world; now lies he there,
ne so poor to do him reverence.
O masters! If I were dispos
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men.
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men.
s a parchment with the seal of Caesar,
I found it in his closet;
Let but the commons hear this testament,
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,
uld go and kiss dead Caesar
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
ll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony.
The will, the will! We will hear Caesar
Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it.
It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
earing the will of Caesar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
For if you should, O, what would come of it?
You shall read us the will, Caesar
Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?
ershot myself to tell you of it.
I fear I wrong the honourable men
Whose daggers have stabb
d Caesar; I do fear it.
They were traitors. Honourable men!
The will! The testament!
They were villains, murderers. The will! Read the will!
You will compel me then to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,
And let me show you him that made the will.
Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
You shall have leave.
A ring! Stand round.
Stand from the hearse, stand from the boM
Room for Antony, most noble Antony!
Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
Stand back; room! bear back.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle. I remember
The first time ever Caesar put it on;
s evening, in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii.
Look, in this place ran Cassius
See what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb
d his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Caesar follow
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv
If Brutus so unkindly knock
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar lov
This was the most unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors
d him: then burst his mighty heart;
And in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of PompM
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish
O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity. These are gracious drops.
Kind souls, what weep you when you but behold
s vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marr
d, as you see, with traitors.
O piteous spectacle!
O traitors, villains!
O most bloody sight!
We will be revenged.
let not a traitor live!
Peace there! Hear the noble Antony.
Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
e done this deed are honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it. They
re wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts.
I am no orator, as Brutus is;
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That love my friend; and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
d. I only speak right on.
I tell you that which you yourselves do know,
Show you sweet Caesar
s wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,
And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
ll burn the house of Brutus.
Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
ountrymen; yet hear me speak.
Peace, ho! Hear Antony; most noble Antony.
Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?
Alas, you know not; I must tell you then.
You have forgot the will I told you of.
Most true; the will!
s stay, and hear the will.
Here is the will, and under Caesar
To every Roman citizen he gives,
To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
ll revenge his death.
Hear me with patience.
Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbors, and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,
And to your heirs forever; common pleasures,
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?
Never, never. Come, away, away!
ll burn his body in the holy place,
And with the brands firM
Pluck down forms, windows, anything.
 [_Exeunt Citizens, with the body._]
Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,
Take thou what course thou wilt!
Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
He and Lepidus are at Caesar
And thither will I straight to M
He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
And in this mood will give us anything.
I heard him say Brutus and Cassius
Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
Belike they had some notice of the people,
How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.
SCENE III. The same. A street.
 Enter Cinna, the poet, and after him the citizens.
I dreamt tonight that I did feast with Caesar,
And things unluckily charge my fantasy.
I have no will to wander fM
Yet something leads me forth.
Whither are you going?
Are you a married man or a bachelor?
Answer every man directly.
Ay, and truly, you were best.
What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married
man or a bachelor? Then, to answer every man diM
wisely and truly. Wisely I say I am a bachelor.
s as much as to say they are fools that marry; you
bang for that, I fear. Proceed, directly.
Directly, I am going to Caesar
As a friend, or an enemy?
That matter is answered directly.
For your dwelling, briefly.
Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
Your name, sir, truly.
Truly, my name is Cinna.
Tear him to pieces! He
I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.
Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.
I am not Cinna the conspirator.
It is no matter, his name
s Cinna; pluck but his name out of his heart,
Tear him, tear him! Come; brands, ho! firebrands. To Brutus
; burn all. Some to Decius
SCENE I. Rome. A room in Antony
 Enter Antony, Octavius and Lepidus, seated at a table.
These many then shall die; their names are prick
Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?
Prick him down, Antony.
Upon condition Publius shall not live,
He shall not live; look, with M
But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar
Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine
How to cut off some charge in legacies.
What, shall I find you here?
Or here, or at the Capitol.
This is a slight unmeritable man,
Meet to be sent on errands. Is it fit,
The three-fold world divided, he should stand
One of the three to share it?
And took his voice who should be prick
entence and proscription.
Octavius, I have seen more days than you;
And though we lay these honours on this man,
To ease ourselves of divers sland
He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold,
To groan and sweat under the business,
Either led or driven, as we point the way;
And having brought our treasure where we will,
Then take we down his load, and turn him off,
Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,
And graze in commons.
You may do your will;
ed and valiant soldier.
So is my horse, Octavius; and for that
I do appoint him store of provender.
It is a creature that I teach to fight,
To wind, to stop, to run directly on,
His corporal motion govern
And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so:
He must be taught, and train
d, and bid go forth:
A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds
On objects, arts, and imitations,
Which, out of use and stal
Begin his fashion. Do not talk of him
But as a property. And noM
Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius
Are levying powers; we must straight make head.
Therefore let our alliance be combin
Our best friends made, our means stretch
And let us presently go sit in council,
How covert matters may be best disclos
And open perils surest answered.
Let us do so: for we are at the stake,
d about with many enemies;
And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,
Millions of mischiefs.
SCENE II. Before BrutuM
 tent, in the camp near Sardis.
 Drum. Enter  Brutus, Lucilius, Titinius and Soldiers; Pindarus meeting
 them; Lucius at some distance.
Give the word, ho! and stand.
What now, Lucilius! is Cassius near?
He is at hand, and Pindarus is come
To do you salutation from his master.
 [_Pindarus gives a letter to Brutus._]
He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,
In his own change, or by ill officers,
Hath given me some worthy cause tM
Things done, undone: but, if he be at hand,
I shall be satisfied.
But that my noble master will appear
Such as he is, full of regard and honour.
He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius;
How he received you, let me be resolv
With courtesy and with respect enough,
But not with such familiar instances,
Nor with such free and friendly conference,
A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,
When love begins to sicken and decay
It useth an enforced ceremony.
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
 [_Low march within._]
But when they should endure the bloody spur,
They fall their crests, and like deceitful jades
Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?
They meant this night in Sardis to be quarter
The greater part, the horse in general,
Are come with Cassius.
March gently on to meet him.
Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
Judge me, you gods; wrong I mine enemies?
And if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs;
And when you do them
Cassius, be content.
softly, I do know you well.
Before the eyes of both our armies here,
Which should perceive nothing but love from us,
Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away;
Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,
And I will give you audience.
Bid our commanders lead their charges off
A little from this ground.
Lucilius, do you the like; and let no man
Come to our tent till we have done our conference.
Lucius and Titinius, guard our door.
SCENE III. Within the teM
 Enter Brutus and Cassius.
d me doth appear in this:
d and noted Lucius Pella
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letters, praying on his side
Because I knew the man, were slighted off.
d yourself to write in such a case.
In such a time as this it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear his comment.
Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
To sell and mart your offices for gold
You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.
Remember March, the Ides of March remember:
Did not great Julius bleed for justice
d his body, that did stab,
And not for justice? What! ShalM
That struck the foremost man of all this world
But for supporting robbers, shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honours
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Brutus, bait not me,
ll not endure it. You forget yourself,
To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;
Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther.
Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
O ye gods, ye gods! Must I endure all this?
All this? ay, more: fret till your proud heart break;
Go show your slaves how choleric you are,
ndmen tremble. Must I budge?
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humour? By the gods,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you; for, from this day forth,
ll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.
You say you are a better soldier:
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
 every way, you wrong me, Brutus.
I said, an elder soldier, not a better:
If you did, I care not.
d, he durst not thus have mov
Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.
What? durst not tempt him?
For your life you durst not.
Do not presume too much upon my love.
I may do that I shall be sorry for.
You have done that you should be sorrM
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats,
d so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;
For I can raise no money by vile means:
By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection. I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,
I did not. He was but a fool
That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riv
A friend should bear his friend
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
I do not, till you practise them on me.
I do not like your faults.
A friendly eye could never see such faults.
s would not, though they do appear
As huge as high Olympus.
Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is a-weary of the world:
Hated by one he loves; brav
d like a bondman; all his faults observ
Set in a note-book, learn
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
pirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heart
 mine, richer than gold:
st a Roman, take it forth.
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike as thou didst at Caesar; for I know,
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
Sheathe your dagger.
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a laM
That carries anger as the flint bears fire,
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief and blood ill-temper
When I spoke that, I was ill-temper
Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Have not you love enough to bear with me,
our which my mother gave me
Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
 Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius and Lucius.
[_Within._] Let me go in to see the generals,
There is some grudge between
[_Within._] You shall not come to them.
[_Within._] Nothing but death shall stay me.
For shame, you generals! What do you mean?
Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;
For I have seen more years, I
Ha, ha! How vilely doth this cynic rhyme!
Get you hence, sirrah. Saucy fellow, hence!
Bear with him, Brutus;
ll know his humour when he knows his time.
What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
Away, away, be gone!
Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies tonight.
And come yourselves and bring Messala with you
 [_Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius._]
Lucius, a bowl of wine.
I did not think you could have been so angry.
O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Of your philosophy you make no use,
If you give place to accidental evils.
No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
d I killing, when I cross
O insupportable and touching loss!
Impatient of my absence,
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themselves so strong; for with her death
That tidings came. With this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallow
 Enter Lucius, with wine and a tapeM
Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
Fill, Lucius, till the wine o
I cannot drink too much of Brutus
 Enter Titinius and Messala.
Welcome, good Messala.
Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.
Portia, art thou gone?
No more, I pray you.
Messala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius and Mark Antony
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.
Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.
That by proscription and bills of outlawry
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus
Have put to death an hundred Senators.
Therein our letters do not well agree.
Mine speak of seventy Senators that died
By their proscriptions, CiceroM
And by that order of proscription.
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
That, methinks, is strange.
Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours?
Now as you are a Roman, tell me true.
Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell,
For certain she is dead, and by sM
Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala.
With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.
Even so great men great losses should endure.
I have as much of this in art as you,
But yet my nature could not bear it so.
Well, to our work alive. What do you think
Of marching to Philippi presently?
I do not think it good.
Tis better that the enemy seek us;
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
Doing himself offence, whilst we, lying still,
Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.
Good reasons must of force give place to better.
twixt Philippi and this ground
Do stand but in a forced affection;
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them shall make a fuller number up,
d, new-added, and encourag
From which advantage shall we cut him off
If at Philippi we do M
These people at our back.
Hear me, good brother.
Under your pardon. You must note besides,
That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe.
The enemy increaseth every day;
We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
 take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Then, with your will, go on:
ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
And nature must obey necessity,
Which we will niggard with a little rest.
There is no more to say?
No more. Good night:
Early tomorrow will we rise, and hence.
Farewell now, good Messala.
Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble CaM
Good night, and good repose.
This was an ill beginning of the night.
Never come such division
 Enter Lucius with the gown.
Good night, my lord.
Good night, good brother.
TITINIUS and MESSALA.
Good night, Lord Brutus.
 [_Exeunt Cassius, Titinius and Messala._]
Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
Poor knave, I blame thee not, thou art o
Call Claudius and some other of my men;
ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
 Enter Varro and Claudius.
I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;
It may be I shall raise you by-and-by
On business to my brother Cassius.
So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.
I will not have it so; lie down, goM
It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.
s the book I sought for so;
I put it in the pocket of my gown.
 [_Servants lie down._]
I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
I have slept, my lord, already.
It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again;
I will not hold thee long. If I do live,
I will be good to thee.
 [_Lucius plays and sings till he falls asleep._]
This is a sleepy tune. O murd
Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
ll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
 Enter the Ghost of Caesar.
How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou anything?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
st my blood cold and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
Well; then I shall see thee again?
Why, I will see thee at Philippi then.
 [_Ghost vanishes._]
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest.
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!
The strings, my lord, are false.
He thinks he still is at his instrument.
Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?
My lord, I do not know that I did cry.
Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything?
Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius!
Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
Ay. Saw you anything?
No, my lord, I saw nothing.
Go and commend me to my brother Cassius;
Bid him set on his powers betimes before,
It shall be done, my lord.
SCENE I. The plains of Philippi.
 Enter Octavius, Antony and their Army.
Now, Antony, our hopes are answered.
You said the enemy would not come down,
But keep the hills and upper regions.
It proves not so; their battles are at hand,
They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
ring before we do demand of them.
Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know
Wherefore they do it. They could be content
To visit other places, and come down
With fearful bravery, thinking by this face
To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage;
Prepare you, generals.
The enemy comes on in gallant show;
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
And something to be done immediately.
Octavius, lead your battle softly on
 left hand of the even field.
Upon the right hand I. Keep thou the left.
Why do you cross me in this exigent?
I do not cross you; but I will do so.
Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius and their Army; Lucilius, Titinius, Messala
They stand, and would have parley.
Stand fast, Titinius; we must out and talk.
Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge.
 the generals would have some words.
Stir not until the signal.
Words before blows: is it so, countrymen?
Not that we love words better, as you do.
Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words;
Witness the hole you made in Caesar
Long live! Hail, Caesar!
The posture of your blows are yet unknown;
But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
O yes, and soundless too,
n their buzzing, Antony,
And very wisely threat before you sting.
Villains, you did not so when your vile daggers
d one another in the sides of Caesar:
d your teeth like apes, and fawn
d like bondmen, kissing Caesar
Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind
Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!
Flatterers! Now, Brutus, M
This tongue had not offended so today,
If Cassius might have rul
Come, come, the cause. If arguing makes us sweat,
The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
Look, I draw a sword against conspirators.
When think you that the sword goes up again?
s three and thirty wounds
d; or till another Caesar
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors
I was not born to die on Brutus
O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
A peevish school-boy, worthless of such honour,
d with a masker and a reveller.
Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.
If you dare fight today, come to the field;
If not, when you have stomachs.
 [_Exeunt Octavius, Antony and their Army._]
Why now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
Ho, Lucilius! Hark, a word with you.
 [_Brutus and Lucilius talk apart._]
What says my General?
This is my birth-day; as this very day
Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala:
Be thou my witness that against my will
As Pompey was, am I compell
Upon one battle all our liberties.
You know that I held EpiM
And his opinion. Now I change my mind,
And partly credit things that do presage.
Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers
Who to Philippi here consorted us.
This morning are they fled away and gone,
And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites
er our heads, and downward look on us,
As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem
A canopy most fatal, under which
Our army lies, ready to giM
I but believe it partly,
For I am fresh of spirit, and resolv
To meet all perils very constantly.
Now, most noble Brutus,
The gods today stand friendly, that we may,
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
But, since the affairs of men rest still incertain,
s reason with the worst that may befall.
If we do lose this battle, then is this
The very last time we shall speak together:
then determined to do?
Even by the rule of that philosophy
By which I did blame Cato for the death
Which he did give himself, I know not how,
But I do find it cowardly and vile,
For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
The time of life, arming myself with patience
To stay the providence of some high powers
That govern us below.
Then, if we lose this battle,
You are contented to be led in triumph
Thorough the streets of Rome?
No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble RomaM
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work the Ides of March begun;
And whether we shall meet again I know not.
Therefore our everlasting farewell take.
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius.
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why then this parting was well made.
For ever and for ever farewell, Brutus.
If we do meet again, we
tis true this parting was well made.
n, lead on. O, that a man might know
s business ere it come!
But it sufficeth that the day will end,
And then the end is known. Come, ho! away!
SCENE II. The same. The field of battle.
 Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.
Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills
Unto the legions on the other side.
Let them set on at once; for I perceive
But cold demeanor in Octavius
And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
de, Messala; let them all come down.
SCENE III. Another part of the field.
 Alarum. Enter Cassius and Titinius.
O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!
Myself have to mine own turn
This ensign here of mine was turning back;
I slew the coward, and did take it from him.
O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early,
Who, having some advantage on Octavius,
Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil,
Whilst we by Antony are all enclos
Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord.
Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius;
Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
Titinius, if thou lovest me,
Mount thou my horse and hide thy spurs in him,
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops
And here again, that I may rest assur
Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
I will be here again, even with a thought.
Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill,
My sight was ever thick. Regard Titinius,
And tell me what thou notest about the field.
 [_Pindarus goes up._]
This day I breathed first. Time is come round,
And where I did begin, there shall I end.
My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?
[_Above._] O my lord!
[_Above._] Titinius is enclosed round about
With horsemen, that make toM
Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him.
Now, Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too.
And, hark! they shout for joy.
Come down; behold no more.
O, coward that I am, to live so long,
To see my best friend ta
 [_Pindarus descends._]
Come hither, sirrah.
In Parthia did I take thee prisoner;
And then I swore thee, saving of thy life,
That whatsoever I did bid thee do,
Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thiM
Now be a freeman; and with this good sword,
That ran through Caesar
s bowels, search this bosom.
Stand not to answer. Here, take thou the hilts;
And when my face is cover
Guide thou the sword.
Caesar, thou art reveng
Even with the sword that kill
So, I am free, yet would not so have been,
Durst I have done my will. O Cassius!
Far from this country Pindarus shall run,
Where never Roman shall take note of him.
 Titinius with Messala.
It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius
Is overthrown by noble Brutus
 legions are by Antony.
These tidings would well comfort Cassius.
Where did you leave him?
With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.
Is not that he that lies upon the ground?
He lies not like the living. O my heart!
No, this was he, Messala,
no more. O setting sun,
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,
So in his red blood Cassius
The sun of Rome is set. Our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done.
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.
O hateful Error, Melancholy
Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? O Error, soon conceiv
st unto a happy birth,
What, Pindarus! where art thou, Pindarus?
Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet
The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
Into his ears. I may say thrusting it;
For piercing steel and darts envenomed
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus
As tidings of this sight.
And I will seek for Pindarus the while.
Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?
Did I not meet thy friends? And did not they
my brows this wreath of victory,
And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?
Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything!
But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
By your leave, gods. This is a Roman
 sword, and find Titinius
 Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius and
ere, Messala, doth his body lie?
Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails.
Look whether he have not crown
Are yet two Romans living such as these?
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impossible that ever Rome
ellow. Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man than you shall see me pay.
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.
Come therefore, and to Thassos send his body.
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on.
clock; and Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight.
SCENE IV. Another part of the field.
 Alarum. Enter fighting soldiersM
 of both armies; then Brutus, Messala,
 young Cato, Lucilius, Flavius and others.
Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!
What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?
I will proclaim my name about the field.
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
A foe to tyrants, and my country
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
 [_Charges the enemy._]
And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
s friend; know me for Brutus!
 [_Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is oveM
rpowered, and falls._]
O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius,
Yield, or thou diest.
Only I yield to die:
There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;
Kill Brutus, and be honour
We must not. A noble prisoner!
Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta
ll tell the news. HeM
re comes the General.
Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough.
I dare assure thee that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus.
The gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.
This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you,
A prize no less in worth. Keep this man safe,
Give him all kindness. I had rather have
Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,
And see whether Brutus be alive or dead;
And bring us word unto Octavius
How everything is chanc
SCENE V. Another part of the field.
 Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato and Volumnius.
Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
d the torch-light; but, my lord,
He came not back: he is or ta
Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word;
It is a deed in fashion. M
What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Peace then, no words.
ll rather kill myself.
Hark thee, Dardanius.
Shall I do such a deed?
What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.
Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.
Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Caesar hath appear
Two several times by night; at Sardis once,
And this last night here in Philippi fields.
I know my hour is come.
Nay I am sure it is, Volumnius.
Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit.
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves
Than tarry till they M
push us. Good Volumnius,
st that we two went to school together;
Even for that our love of old, I pr
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
s not an office for a friend, my lord.
Fly, fly, my lord! there is no tarrying here.
Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius.
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato.
My heart doth joy, that yet in all my life
n but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this losing day
More than Octavius and Mark Antony
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So fare you well at once; for Brutus
Hath almost ended his life
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour
d to attain this hour.
 [_Alarums. Cry within,
Hence! I will follow.
 [_Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius and Volumnius._]
Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it.
Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
Farewell, good Strato.
Caesar, now be still:
d not thee with half so good a will.
 [_He runs on his sword, and dies._]
 Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucilius and the
s man. Strato, where is thy master?
Free from the bondage you are in, Messala.
The conquerors can but make a fire of him;
For Brutus only overcame himself,
And no man else hath honour by his death.
So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
d Brutus, I will entertain them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
How died my master, Strato?
I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my master.
This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He only, in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements
d in him that Nature might stand up
According to his virtue let us use him
With all respect and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie,
Most like a soldier, order
So call the field to rest, and let
To part the glories of this happy day.
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THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE
by William Shakespeare
Scene I. Venice. A street.
Scene II. Venice. Another street.
Scene III. Venice. A council chamber.
Scene I. A seaport in Cyprus. A Platform.
Scene III. A Hall in the Castle.
Scene I. Cyprus. Before the Castle.
Scene II. Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
Scene III. Cyprus. The Garden of the Castle.
Scene IV. Cyprus. Before the Castle.
Scene I. Cyprus. Before the CastleM
Scene II. Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
Scene III. Cyprus. Another Room in the Castle.
Scene I. Cyprus. A Street.
Scene II. Cyprus. A Bedchamber in the castle.
BRABANTIO, a Senator of Venice and Desdemona
GRATIANO, Brother to Brabantio
LODOVICO, Kinsman to Brabantio
OTHELLO, a noble Moor in the service of Venice
CASSIO, his Lieutenant
s predecessor in the government of Cyprus
CLOWN, Servant to Othello
DESDEMONA, Daughter to Brabantio and Wife to Othello
EMILIA, Wife to Iago
BIANCA, Mistress to Cassio
Officers, Gentlemen, Messenger, Musicians, Herald, Sailor, Attendants,
SCENE: The First Act in Venice; during the rest of the Play at a
SCENE I. Venice. A street.
 Enter Roderigo and Iago.
Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse,
As if the strings were thine,M
 shouldst know of this.
Sblood, but you will not hear me.
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
st me, thou didst hold him in thy hate.
Despise me if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
d to him; and by the faith of man,
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance,
d with epithets of warM
Nonsuits my mediators: for
I have already chose my officer.
Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
A fellow almost damn
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster, unless the bookish theoric,
Wherein the toged consuls can propose
As masterly as he: mere prattle without practice
Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election,
I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds,
Christian and heathen, must be belee
By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster,
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And I, God bless the mark, his Moorship
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
Tis the curse of service,
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the firM
st. Now sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affin
I would not follow him, then.
O, sir, content you.
I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master
For nought but provender, and when he
Whip me such honest knaves. M
d in forms, and visages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,
And throwing but shows of service on their lords,
Do well thrive by them, and when they have lin
Do themselves homage. These fellows have some soul,
And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:
In following him, I follow but myself.
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so for my peculiarM
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In complement extern,
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe,
Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
And though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies: though that his joy M
Yet throw such changes of vexation on
As it may lose some color.
Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell
As when, by night and negligence, the fire
Is spied in populous cities.
What ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!
Awake! what ho, Brabantio! Thieves, thieves!
Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags!
 Brabantio appears above at a window.
 reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
Signior, is all your family within?
Are your doors locked?
Why, wherefore ask you this?
d, for shame put on your gown,
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise,
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
at, have you lost your wits?
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
Not I. What are you?
My name is Roderigo.
d thee not to haunt about my doors;
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now in madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
But thou must needs be sM
My spirit and my place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.
st thou me of robbing?
This is Venice. My house is not a grange.
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.
Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil
bid you. Because we come to do you service, and you think we are
ll have your daughter cover
d with a Barbary horse;
phews neigh to you; you
ll have coursers for cousins
and gennets for germans.
What profane wretch art thou?
I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are
now making the beast with two backs.
This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo.
Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you,
t be your pleasure, and most wise consent,
(As partly I find it is) that your faiM
At this odd-even and dull watch o
Transported with no worse nor better guard,
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor:
If this be known to you, and your allowance,
We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners tell me,
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
That from the sense of all civility,
I thus would play and trifle with your reverence.
Your daughter (if you have not given her leave)
ay again, hath made a gross revolt,
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself:
If she be in her chamber or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.
Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper! Call up all my people!
This accident is not unlike my dream,
Belief of it oppresses me already.
Light, I say, light!
 [_Exit from above._]
Farewell; for I must leave M
It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place
d, as if I stay I shall,
Against the Moor. For I do know the state,
However this may gall him with some check,
Cannot with safety cast him, for he
With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,
Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom they have none
To lead their business. In which regard,
Though I do hate him as I do hell pains,
Yet, for necessity of present life,
I must show out a flag and sign oM
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
Lead to the Sagittary the raised search,
And there will I be with him. So, farewell.
 Enter Brabantio with Servants and torches.
It is too true an evil. Gone she is,
s to come of my despised time,
Is naught but bitterness. Now Roderigo,
Where didst thou see her? (O unhappy girl!)
st thou? (Who would be a father!)
How didst thou know
twas she? (O, she deceives me
) What said she to you? Get more tapers,
Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?
Truly I think they are.
O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!
Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters
By what you see them act. Is there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Yes, sir, I have indeed.
Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!
way, some another. Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
I think I can discover him, if you please
To get good guard, and go along with me.
Pray you lead on. At every house I
I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night.
On, good Roderigo. I will deserve your pains.
SCENE II. Venice. Another street.
 Enter Othello, Iago and Attendants with torches.
Though in the trade of war I have slain mM
Yet do I hold it very stuff o
d murder; I lack iniquity
Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk
d him here under the ribs.
Tis better as it is.
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour,
That with the little godliness I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But I pray you, sir,
Are you fast married? Be assur
That the magnifico is much belov
n his effect a voice potential
As double as the duke
s; he will divorce you,
Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
The law (with all his might to enforce it on)
Will give him cable.
Let him do his spite;
My services, which I have done the signiory,
Shall out-tongue his complaints.
Which, when I know that boasting is an honour,
I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege. And my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
this that I have reach
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription and confine
s worth. But look, what lights come yond?
Those are the raised father and his friends:
You were best go in.
Not I; I must be found.
My parts, my title, and my perfect soul
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
By Janus, I think no.
 Enter Cassio and Officers with torches.
e duke and my lieutenant.
The goodness of the night upon you, friends!
The duke does greet you, general,
And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance
Even on the instant.
What is the matter, think you?
Something from Cyprus, as I may divine.
It is a business of some heat. The galleys
Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
This very night at one another
And many of the consuls, rais
s already. You have been hoM
When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The senate hath sent about three several quests
Tis well I am found by you.
I will but spend a word here in the house,
Ancient, what makes he here?
Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carrack:
If it prove lawful prize, he
I do not understand.
me, captain, will you go?
Here comes another troop to seek for you.
 Enter Brabantio, Roderigo and Officers with torches and weapons.
It is Brabantio. General, be advis
He comes to bad intent.
Signior, it is the Moor.
Down with him, thief!
 [_They draw on both sides._]
You, Roderigo! Come, sir, I am for you.
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
ignior, you shall more command with years
Than with your weapons.
O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow
d as thou art, thou hast enchanted her,
ll refer me to all things of sense,
(If she in chains of magic were not bound)
Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy,
So opposite to marriage, that she shunn
The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,
Would ever have, to incur a general mock,
Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom
Of such a thing as thou
to fear, not to delight.
Judge me the world, if
tis not gross in sense,
That thou hast practis
d on her with foul charms,
d her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weakens motion. I
Tis probable, and palpable to thinking.
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee
For an abuser of the world, a practiser
Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.
Lay hold upon him, if he do resist,
Subdue him at his peril.
Both you of my incliningM
Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it
Without a prompter. Where will you that I go
To answer this your charge?
To prison, till fit time
Of law and course of direct session
Call thee to answer.
How may the duke be therewith satisfied,
Whose messengers are here about my side,
Upon some present business of the state,
Tis true, most worthy signior,
s in council, and your noble self,
How? The duke in council?
In this time of the night? Bring him away;
s not an idle cause. The duke himself,
Or any of my brothers of the state,
Cannot but feel this wrong as
For if such actions may have passage free,
Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be.
SCENE III. Venice. A council chamber.
 The Duke and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending.
There is no composition in these news
That gives them crediM
Indeed, they are disproportion
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
And mine a hundred and forty.
And mine two hundred:
But though they jump not on a just account,
(As in these cases, where the aim reports,
Tis oft with difference,) yet do they all confirm
A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.
Nay, it is possible enough to judgement:
I do not so secure me in the error,
But the main article I do approve
[_Within._] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho!
A messenger from the galleys.
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes,
So was I bid report here to the state
How say you by this change?
By no assay of reason.
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk;
And let ourselves again but understand
That, as it more conceM
rns the Turk than Rhodes,
So may he with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
But altogether lacks the abilities
That Rhodes is dress
d in. If we make thought of this,
We must not think the Turk is so unskilful
To leave that latest which concerns him first,
Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain,
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
Nay, in all confidence, he
mites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes,
Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
Of thirty sail, and now they do re-stem
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him.
Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.
s, is not he in town?
Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch.
Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.
 Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo and Officers.
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
[_To Brabantio._] I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior,
d your counsel and your help tonight.
So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me.
ace, nor aught I heard of business
d me from my bed, nor doth the general care
Take hold on me; for my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and o
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,
And it is still itself.
My daughter! O, my daughter!
n from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not.
er he be, that in this foul proceeding,
d your daughter of herself,
And you of her, the bloody book of law
You shall yourself read in the bitter letter,
After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
Stood in your action.
Humbly I thank your grace.
Here is the man, this Moor, whom now it seems
Your special mandate for the state affairs
Hath hither brought.
[_To Othello._] What, in your own part, can you say to this?
Nothing, but this is so.
Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approv
en away this old man
It is most true; true, I have married her.
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
d with the soft phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us
Their dearest action in the tented field,
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle,
And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish
Of my whole course of love: what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magic,
(For such proceeding I am charged withal)
Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
d at herself; and she, in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, everything,
To fall in love with what she fear
It is judgement maim
d and most imperfect
That will confess perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature, and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,
Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o
Or with some dram conjur
He wrought upon her.
To vouch this is no proof;
Without more wider and more overt test
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
But, Othello, speak:
Did you by indirect and forced courses
Subdue and poison this young maid
Or came it by request, and such fair question
As soul to soul affordeth?
Send for the lady to the Sagittary,
And let her speak of me before her father.
ind me foul in her report,
The trust, the office I do hold of you,
Not only take away, but let your sentence
Even fall upon my life.
Fetch Desdemona hither.
Ancient, conduct them, you best know the place.
 [_Exeunt Iago and Attendants._]
And till she come, as truly as to heaven
I do confess the vices of my blood,
So justly to your grave ears I
How I did thrive in this fair lady
d me the story of my life,
the battles, sieges, fortunes,
I ran it through, even from my boyish days
To the very moment that he bade me tell it,
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth scapes i
 imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence,
And portance in my traveler
Wherein of antres vast M
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak,
such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline.
But still the house affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
d come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse; which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good M
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively. I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer
d. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.
She swore, in faith,
twas passing strange;
twas wondrous pitiful.
d she had not heard it, yet she wish
ven had made her such a man: she thank
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
d me for the dangers I had pass
d her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have us
Here comes the lady. Let her witness it.
 Enter  Desdemona, Iago and Attendants.
I think this tale would win my daughter too.
Take up this mangled matter at the M
Men do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands.
I pray you hear her speak.
If she confess that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
Come hither, gentle mistress:
Do you perceive in all this noble company
Where most you owe obedience?
I do perceive here a divided duty:
To you I am bound for life and education.
My life and education both do learn me
How to respect you. You are the lord of duty,M
I am hitherto your daughter: but here
And so much duty as my mother show
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor my lord.
God be with you! I have done.
Please it your grace, on to the state affairs.
I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
I here do give thee that with all my heart
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
I would keep from thee.
For your sake, jewel,
 soul I have no other child,
For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
To hang clogs on them.
I have done, my lord.
Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence,
Which as a grise or step may help these lovers
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
d that smiles steals something from the thief;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile,
We lose it not so long as we can smile;
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence he hears;
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences to sugar or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal:
But words are words; I never yet did hear
d heart was pierced through the ear.
I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for Cyprus. Othello, the
fortitude of the place is best known to you. And though we have there a
substitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a sovereign
mistress of effects, throws a more safer voice on you: you must
therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with
this more stubborn and boisterous expedition.
yrant custom, most grave senators,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnize
A natural and prompt alacrity
I find in hardness, and do undertake
This present wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly, therefore, bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife,
Due reference of place and exhibition,
With such accommodation and besort
As levels with her breeding.
Nor I. I would not there reside,
To put my father in impatient thoughts,
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear,
And let me find a charter in your voice
 assist my simpleness.
What would you, Desdemona?
That I did love the Moor to live with him,
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May trumpet to the world: my heart
Even to the very quality of my lord.
And to his honours and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites for which I love him are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
Let her have your voice.
Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not
To please the palate of my appetite,
Nor to comply with heat, the young affects
In me defunct, and proper satisfaction,
nd bounteous to her mind.
And heaven defend your good souls that you think
I will your serious and great business scant
For she is with me. No, when light-wing
d Cupid seel with wanton dullness
My speculative and offic
That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation.
Be it as you shall privately determine,
Either for her stay or going. The affair crM
And speed must answer it.
You must away tonight.
 the morning here we
Othello, leave some officer behind,
And he shall our commission bring to you,
With such things else of quality and respect
So please your grace, my ancient,
A man he is of honesty and trust,
To his conveyance I assign my wife,
With what else needful your good grace shall think
To be sent after me.
Good night to everyone. [_To Brabantio._] And, noble signior,
If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.
Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well.
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see:
d her father, and may thee.
 [_Exeunt Duke, Senators, Officers, &c._]
My life upon her faith! Honest Iago,
My Desdemona must I leave to thee.
I prithee, let thy wife attend on her,
And bring them after iM
n the best advantage.
Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour
Of love, of worldly matters, and direction,
To spend with thee. We must obey the time.
 [_Exeunt Othello and Desdemona._]
What sayst thou, noble heart?
What will I do, thinkest thou?
Why, go to bed and sleep.
I will incontinently drown myself.
If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, thou silly gentleman!
It is silliness to live, when to live is toM
rment; and then have we a
prescription to die when death is our physician.
O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four times seven years,
and since I could distinguish betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never
found man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say I would drown
myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a
What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so fond, but it is not
in my virtue to amend it.
Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies
are gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners. So that if we will
plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it
with one gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it
sterile with idleness or manured with industry, why, the power and
corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our
lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the
blood and baseness of our natures would M
conduct us to most preposterous
conclusions. But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal
stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call love, to
be a sect, or scion.
It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Come, be
a man. Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies. I have professed me
thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of
perdurable toughness; I could never better stead thee than now. Put
oney in thy purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with an
usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be that
Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,
nor he his to her. It was a violent commencement, and thou shalt
see an answerable sequestration
put but money in thy purse. These Moors
are changeable in their wills. Fill thy purse with money. The food that
to him now is as luscious as locusts shall be to him shortly as acerb
as the coloquintida.M
 She must change for youth. When she is sated with
his body, she will find the error of her choice. She must have change,
she must. Therefore put money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn
thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money
thou canst. If sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian
and a supersubtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the
tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of
drowning thyself! It is clean out of the way: seeM
hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go without her.
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes if I depend on the issue?
Thou art sure of me. Go, make money. I have told thee often, and I
retell thee again and again, I hate the Moor. My cause is hearted;
thine hath no less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against
him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me a
sport. There are many events in the womb of time which will be
 Traverse, go, provide thy money. We will have more of this
Where shall we meet i
ll be with thee betimes.
Go to, farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
No more of drowning, do you hear?
ll sell all my land.
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.
d knowledge should profane
If I would time expend with such aM
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor,
And it is thought abroad that
He has done my office. I know not if
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well,
The better shall my purpose work on him.
s a proper man. Let me see now,
To get his place, and to plume up my will
In double knavery. How, how? Let
After some time, to abuse Othello
That he is too familiar with his wife.
He hath a person and a sM
To be suspected, fram
d to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
And will as tenderly be led by the nose
Must bring this monstrous birth to the world
SCENE I. A seaport in Cyprus. A Platform.
 Enter Montano and two Gentlemen.
What from the cape can you discern at sea?
Nothing at all, it is M
a high-wrought flood.
twixt the heaven and the main
Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land.
er shook our battlements.
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?
A segregation of the Turkish fleet.
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds,
d surge, with high and monstrousM
Seems to cast water on the burning Bear,
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole;
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.
If that the Turkish fleet
It is impossible to bear it out.
 Enter a third Gentleman.
News, lads! Our wars are done.
The desperate tempest hath so bang
That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
t part of their fleet.
The ship is here put in,
A Veronessa; Michael Cassio,
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,
Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
Tis a worthy governor.
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,
And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.
d him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let
s to the sea-side, ho!
As well to see the vessel that
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the main and the aerial blue
An indistinct regard.
For every minute is expectancy
Thanks you, the valiant of this warlike isle,
That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens
e against the elements,
For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.
His bark is stoutly timber
Of very expert and approv
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
[_Within._] A sail, a sail, a sail!
The town is empty; on the brow o
Stand ranks of people, and they cry
My hopes do shape him for the governor.
They do discharge their shot of courtesy.
Our friends at least.
I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who
But, good lieutenant, is your general wiv
Most fortunately: he hath achiev
That paragons description and wild fame,
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
And in the essential vesture of creation
Does tire the ingener.
How now? Who has put in?
Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.
He has had most favourable and happy speed:
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
d rocks, and congregated sands,
d to clog the guiltless keel,
As having sense of beauty, do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.
She that I spake of, our great captain
Left in the conduct ofM
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts
s speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
s quick pants in Desdemona
d fire to our extincted spirits,
And bring all Cyprus comfort!
 Enter Desdemona, Iago, Roderigo, and Emilia.
The riches of the ship is come on shore!
Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
Hail to thee, lady! and the M
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught
s well, and will be shortly here.
How lost you company?
[_Within._] A sail, a sail!
The great contention of the sea and skies
Parted our fellowship. But, hark! a sail.
They give their greeting to thM
This likewise is a friend.
 [_Exit Gentleman._]
Good ancient, you are welcome. [_To Emilia._] Welcome, mistress.
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
That I extend my manners;
That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
You would have enough.
Alas, she has no speech.
when I have list to sleep.
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking.
You have little cause to say so.
Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,
Bells in your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens,
Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,
Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.
O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk.
You rise to play, and go M
You shall not write my praise.
What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst praise me?
O gentle lady, do not put me to
For I am nothing if not critical.
s one gone to the harbour?
I am not merry, but I do beguile
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
I am about it, but indeed, my invention
pate as birdlime does from frieze,
It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours,
And thus she is deliver
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
s for use, the other useth it.
d! How if she be black and witty?
If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
ll find a white that shall her blackness fit.
How if fair and foolish?
She never yet was foolish that was fair,
For even her folly help
These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i
miserable praise hast thou for her that
s none so foul and foolish thereunto,
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.
O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best. But what praise
couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed, one that in the
authority of her merit did justly put on the vouch of very malice
r fair and never proud,
Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
d gold and yet went never gay,
Fled from her wish, and yet said,
She that, being anger
d, her revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly;
She that in wisdom never was so frail
s head for the salmon
She that could think and ne
er disclose her mind,
See suitors following and not look behind;
She was a wight, if ever such wight were
To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
O most lame and impotent conclusion!
Do not learn of him, Emilia,
though he be thy husband.
How say you, Cassio? is he not a most profane
and liberal counsellor?
He speaks home, madam. You may relish him more in the soldier than in
[_Aside._] He takes her by the palm. Ay, well said, whisper. With as
little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile
upon her, do. I will gyve thee iM
n thine own courtship. You say true,
tis so, indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your
lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers
so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good;
well kissed, an excellent courtesy!
Tis so, indeed. Yet again your
fingers to your lips? Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake!
 [_Trumpets within._]
The Moor! I know his trumpet.
s meet him, and receive hM
 Enter Othello and Attendants.
It gives me wonder great as my content
To see you here before me. O my soul
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have waken
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus-high, and duck again as low
s from heaven! If it were now to die,
Twere now to be most happy, for I fear
 content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow!
Amen to that, sweet powers!
I cannot speak enough of this content.
It stops me here; it is too much of joy:
And this, and this, the greatest discords be [_They kiss._]
er our hearts shall make!
[_Aside._] O, you are well tun
ll set down the pegs that make this music,
Come, let us to the castle.
News, friends, our wars are done, the Turks are drown
How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
Honey, you shall be well desir
I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
In mine own comforts.
I prithee, good Iago,
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers.
Bring thou the master to the citadel;
He is a good one, and his worthiness
Does challenge much respect.
ce more well met at Cyprus.
 [_Exeunt Othello, Desdemona and Attendants._]
Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. If thou be
as, they say, base men being in love have then a nobility in
their natures more than is native to them
list me. The lieutenant
tonight watches on the court of guard: first, I must tell thee this:
Desdemona is directly in love with him.
Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructM
ed. Mark me with what
violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her
fantastical lies. And will she love him still for prating? Let not thy
discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight shall
she have to look on the devil? When the blood is made dull with the act
of sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to give satiety a
fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, manners, and
beauties; all which the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these
equired conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused,
begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor, very nature
will instruct her in it, and compel her to some second choice. Now sir,
this granted (as it is a most pregnant and unforced position) who
stands so eminently in the degree of this fortune as Cassio does? a
knave very voluble; no further conscionable than in putting on the mere
form of civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing of his salt
and most hidden loose afM
fection? Why, none, why, none! A slipper and
subtle knave, a finder out of occasions; that has an eye can stamp and
counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present itself: a
devilish knave! Besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all
those requisites in him that folly and green minds look after. A
pestilent complete knave, and the woman hath found him already.
I cannot believe that in her, she is full of most blessed condition.
s end! the wine she drinks M
is made of grapes: if she had been
blessed, she would never have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst
thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? Didst not mark that?
Yes, that I did. But that was but courtesy.
Lechery, by this hand. An index and obscure prologue to the history of
lust and foul thoughts. They met so near with their lips that their
d together. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo! When these
mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the masterM
exercise, the incorporate conclusion. Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by
me. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you tonight. For the command,
t upon you. Cassio knows you not. I
ll not be far from you. Do
you find some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or
tainting his discipline, or from what other course you please, which
the time shall more favourably minister.
Sir, he is rash, and very sudden in choler, and haply with his
n may strike at you: provoke him that he may, for even out of
that will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny, whose qualification shall
come into no true taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So
shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by the means I shall
then have to prefer them, and the impediment most profitably removed,
without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity.
I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity.
I warrant thee. Meet me by and by M
at the citadel: I must fetch his
necessaries ashore. Farewell.
That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;
That she loves him,
tis apt, and of great credit:
The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not,
Is of a constant, loving, noble nature;
And, I dare think, he
ll prove to Desdemona
A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too,
Not out of absolute lust (though peradventure
I stand accountant for as great a sin)
But partly led to diet my revenge,
o suspect the lusty Moor
d into my seat. The thought whereof
Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards,
And nothing can or shall content my soul
d with him, wife for wife,
Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor
At least into a jealousy so strong
That judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,
If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash
For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,
ll have our Michael Cassio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb
ar Cassio with my night-cap too)
Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me
For making him egregiously an ass
And practicing upon his peace and quiet
Tis here, but yet confus
s plain face is never seen till us
s Herald with a proclamation.
s pleasure, our noble and valiant general, that upon
certain tidings now arrived, importing the mere perdition of the
Turkish fleet, every man pM
ut himself into triumph: some to dance, some
to make bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his addition leads
him. For besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his
nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are
open, and there is full liberty of feasting from this present hour of
five till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus
and our noble general Othello!
SCENE III. A Hall in the Castle.
 Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio M
Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight.
s teach ourselves that honourable stop,
Not to outsport discretion.
Iago hath direction what to do.
But notwithstanding with my personal eye
Iago is most honest.
Michael, good night. Tomorrow with your earliest
Let me have speech with you. [_To Desdemona._] Come, my dear love,
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;
 [_Exeunt Othello, Desdemona and Attendants._]
Welcome, Iago. We must to the watch.
Not this hour, lieutenant.
cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who let us not
therefore blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and
she is sport for Jove.
s a most exquisite lady.
ll warrant her, full of game.
Indeed, she is a most fresh and delicate creature.
What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley to provocation.
An inviting eye, and yet methinks right modest.
And when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love?
She is indeed perfection.
Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stoup of
wine; and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants that would fain
have a measure to the health of black Othello.
Not tonight, good Iago. I have very poor and unhappy brains for
 well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of
O, they are our friends; but one cup: I
I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily qualified too,
and behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in the
infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more.
Tis a night of revels. The gallants desire it.
Here at the door. I pray you, call them in.
t; but it dislikes me.
If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
With that which he hath drunk tonight already,
ll be as full of quarrel and offence
As my young mistress
 dog. Now my sick fool Roderigo,
d almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath tonight carous
Potations pottle-deep; and he
Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits,
That hold their honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle,
d with flowing cups,
And they watch too. Now,
mongst this flock of drunkards,
Am I to put our Cassio in some action
That may offend the isle. But here they come:
If consequence do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
 Enter Cassio, Montano and Gentlemen; followed by Servant with wine.
Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.
Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.
   _And let me the cannikin clink, clink,
    And let me the cannikin clink, clink:
    Why then let a soldier drink._
Fore God, an excellent song.
I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting:
your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander,
nothing to your English.
Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
ks you, with facility, your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not
to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next
pottle can be filled.
To the health of our general!
I am for it, lieutenant; and I
    _King Stephen was a worthy peer,
        His breeches cost him but a crown;
    He held them sixpence all too dear,
        With that he call
    He was a wight of high renown,
And thou art but of low degree:
Tis pride that pulls the country down,
        Then take thine auld cloak about thee._
Fore God, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things.
s above all, and there be souls must be saved, and there be
souls must not be saved.
s true, good lieutenant.
For mine own part, no offence to M
the general, nor any man of quality, I
And so do I too, lieutenant.
Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be saved
before the ancient. Let
s have no more of this; let
Forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let
s look to our business. Do not
think, gentlemen, I am drunk. This is my ancient, this is my right
hand, and this is my left. I am not drunk now. I can stand well enough,
and I speak well enough.
Why, very well then. You must not think, then, that I am drunk.
To the platform, masters. Come, let
You see this fellow that is gone before,
He is a soldier fit to stand by C
And give direction: and do but see his vice,
Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
The one as long as th
I fear the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odd time of his infirmity,
Will shake this island.
But is he often thus?
Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep:
ll watch the horologe a double set
If drink rock not his cradle.
The general were put in mind of it.
Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio,
And looks not on his evils: is not this true?
[_Aside to him._] How now, Roderigo?
I pray you, after the lieutenant; go.
tis great pity that the noble Moor
h a place as his own second
With one of an ingraft infirmity:
It were an honest action to say so
Not I, for this fair island.
I do love Cassio well and would do much
To cure him of this evil. But, hark! What noise?
 Enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo.
Zounds, you rogue, you rascal!
s the matter, lieutenant?
A knave teach me my duty! I
ll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.
Dost thou prate, rogue?
 [_Striking Roderigo._]
Nay, good lieutenant;
I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
[_Aside to Roderigo._] Away, I say! Go out and cry a mutiny.
Nay, good lieutenant, God
s a goodly watch indeed!
s that which rings the bell?
The town will rise. God
s will, lieutenant, hold,
 Enter Othello and Attendants.
What is the matter here?
Zounds, I bleed still, I am hurt to the death.
Hold, for your lives!
Hold, ho! lieutenant,
Have you forgot all  place of sense and duty?
Hold! The general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame!
 ho! From whence ariseth this?
d Turks, and to ourselves do that
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl:
He that stirs next to carve for his own rage
Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.
Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the isle
From her propriety. What is the matter, masters?
Honest Iago, that looks dead with grieving,
Speak, who began this? On thy love, I charge thee.
I do not know. Friends all but now, even now,
n quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
Devesting them for bed; and then, but now,
As if some planet had unwitted men,
Swords out, and tilting one at other
In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
Any beginning to this peevish odds;
And would in action glorious I had lost
Those legs that brought me to a part of it!
How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil.
The gravity and stillM
The world hath noted, and your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure: what
That you unlace your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion for the name
Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it.
Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger.
Your officer, Iago, can inform you,
While I spare speech, which something now offends me,
Of all that I do know; nor know I aught
s said or done amiss this night,
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
defend ourselves it be a sin
When violence assails us.
My blood begins my safer guides to rule,
And passion, having my best judgement collied,
Assays to lead the way. Zounds, if I stir,
Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know
How this foul rout began, who set it on,
And he that is approv
d with me, both at a birth,
Shall lose me. What! in a town of war,
Yet wild, the people
To manage private and domestic quarrel,
In night, and on the court and guard of safety?
Tis monstrous. Iago, who began
Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,
Thou art no soldier.
Touch me not so near.
I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth
Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio.
Yet I persuade myself, to speak the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general:
Montano and myself being in speech,M
There comes a fellow crying out for help,
And Cassio following him with determin
To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause.
Myself the crying fellow did pursue,
Lest by his clamour (as it so fell out)
The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot,
Outran my purpose: and I return
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
And Cassio high in oath, which till tonight
er might say before. When I came back,
(For this was brief)M
 I found them close together,
At blow and thrust, even as again they were
When you yourself did part them.
More of this matter cannot I report.
But men are men; the best sometimes forget;
Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
Yet surely Cassio, I believe, receiv
From him that fled some strange indignity,
Which patience could not pass.
Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I loveM
But never more be officer of mine.
 Enter Desdemona, attended.
Look, if my gentle love be not rais
ll make thee an example.
s well now, sweeting; come away to bed.
Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon.
 [_Montano is led off._]
Iago, look with care about the town,
And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.
To have their balmy slumbers wak
 [_Exeunt all but Iago and Cassio._]
What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
Ay, past all surgery.
Marry, Heaven forbid!
Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I
have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My
reputation, Iago, my reputation!
As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily wound;
there is more sense in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle
and most false imposition,M
 oft got without merit and lost without
deserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute
yourself such a loser. What, man, there are ways to recover the general
again: you are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy
than in malice, even so as one would beat his offenceless dog to
affright an imperious lion: sue to him again, and he
I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a commander
with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. M
speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse fustian with
s own shadow? O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name
to be known by, let us call thee devil!
What was he that you followed with your sword? What had he done to you?
I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but
nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths
to steal away their brains! That weM
 should with joy, pleasance, revel,
and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered?
It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the devil wrath.
One unperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself.
Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and the
condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not
befallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for your own gM
I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a drunkard!
Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To
be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! O
strange! Every inordinate cup is unbless
d, and the ingredient is a
Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used.
Exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you think I
I have well approved it, sir.
You, or any man living, may be drunk at a time, man. I
you shall do. Our general
s wife is now the general; I may say so in
this respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the
contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces. Confess
yourself freely to her. Importune her help to put you in your place
again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition,
she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is
requested. This broken M
joint between you and her husband entreat her to
splinter, and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of
your love shall grow stronger than it was before.
I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.
I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech the
virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me; I am desperate of my fortunes
if they check me here.
You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant, I must to the watch.
Good night, honest Iago.
s he then, that says I play the villain?
When this advice is free I give and honest,
Probal to thinking, and indeed the course
To win the Moor again? For
The inclining Desdemona to subdue
In any honest suit. She
As the free elements. And then for her
To win the Moor, were
t to renounce his baptism,
All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,
His soul is so enfetter
ke, unmake, do what she list,
Even as her appetite shall play the god
With his weak function. How am I then, a villain
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
When devils will the blackest sins put on,
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
As I do now: for whiles this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
ll pour this pestilence into his ear,
That she repeals him for her body
 how much she strives to do him good,
She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.
I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but one
that fills up the cry. My money is almost spent, I have been tonight
exceedingly well cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall have
so much experience for my pains, and so, with no money at all M
little more wit, return again to Venice.
How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft,
And wit depends on dilatory time.
t not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,
And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier
Though other things grow fair against the sun,
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.
Content thyself awhile. By the mass,
Pleasure and action make the hM
Retire thee; go where thou art billeted.
Away, I say, thou shalt know more hereafter.
Two things are to be done,
My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress.
Myself the while to draw the Moor apart,
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
Soliciting his wife. Ay, that
Dull not device by coldness and delay.
SCENE I. Cyprus. Before the Castle.
 Enter Cassio and some Musicians.M
Masters, play here, I will content your pains,
Good morrow, general.
Why, masters, have your instruments been in Naples, that they speak i
Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
Ay, marry, are they, sir.
O, thereby hangs a tail.
Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument M
that I know. But, masters, here
money for you: and the general so likes your music, that he desires
s sake, to make no more noise with it.
Well, sir, we will not.
If you have any music that may not be heard, to
t again. But, as they
say, to hear music the general does not greatly care.
We have none such, sir.
Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I
ll away. Go, vanish into air,
 [_Exeunt Musicians._]
t thou hear, mine honest friend?
No, I hear not your honest friend. I hear you.
Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There
s a poor piece of gold for thee:
if the gentlewoman that attends the general
s wife be stirring, tell
s one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech. Wilt
She is stirring, sir; if she will stir hither, I shall seem to notify
In happy time, Iago.
You have not been a-bed, then?
Why, no. The day had broke
Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
To send in to your wife. My suit to her
Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
Procure me some access.
ll send her to you presently,
ll devise a mean to draw the Moor
Out of the way, that your converse and business
I humbly thank you for
A Florentine more kind and honest.
Good morrow, good lieutenant; I am sorry
For your displeasure, but all will sure be well.
The general and his wife are talking of it,
And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies
That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus
And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom
He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you
And needs no other suitor but his likings
To take the safest occasion by the front
To bring you in again.
If you think fit, or that it may beM
Give me advantage of some brief discourse
With Desdemona alone.
I will bestow you where you shall have time
To speak your bosom freely.
I am much bound to you.
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
 Enter Othello, Iago and Gentlemen.
These letters give, Iago, to the pilot,
And by him do my duties to the senate.
That done, I will be walking on the works,
Well, my good lord, I
This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see
ll wait upon your lordship.
SCENE III. Cyprus. The Garden of the Castle.
 Enter Desdemona, Cassio and Emilia.
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.
Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves my husband
As if the cause were his.
s an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
s never anything but your true servant.
t. I thank you. You do love my lord.
You have known him long; and be you well assur
He shall in strangeness stand no farther off
Than in a politic distance.
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent, and my place supplied,
My general will forget M
my love and service.
Do not doubt that. Before Emilia here
I give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I
To the last article. My lord shall never rest,
ll watch him tame, and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
ll intermingle everything he does
s suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio,
For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away.
 Enter Othello and Iago.
Why, stay, and hear me speak.
Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.
Well, do your discretion.
Ha, I like not that.
Nothing, my lord; or if
Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.
Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
If I have any grace or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take;
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
I have no judgement in an honest face.
I prithee call him back.
Ay, sooth; so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
Not now, sweet Desdemon, some other time.
The sooner, sweet, for you.
t be tonight at supper?
Tomorrow dinner then?
I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.
Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday mornM
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn.
I prithee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days. In faith, he
And yet his trespass, in our common reason,
(Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of their best) is not almost a fault
To incur a private check. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What? Michael Cassio,
That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
oke of you dispraisingly,
en your part, to have so much to do
To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much.
Prithee no more. Let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.
Why, this is not a boon;
Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,
d fearful to be granted.
I will deny thee nothing.
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.
Shall I deny you? No, farewell, my lord.
Farewell, my Desdemona. I
ll come to thee straight.
Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you.
er you be, I am obedient.
 [_Exit with Emilia._]
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! And when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.
What dost thou say, Iago?
Did Michael Cassio, when you woo
He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
But for a satisfaction of my thought.
Why of thy thought, Iago?
I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
O yes, and went between us very oft.
Indeed? Ay, indeed. Discern
st thou aught in that?
My lord, for aught I know.
What dost thou think?
Think, my lord? By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something.
I heard thee say even now, thou lik
When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst,
ract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.
My lord, you know I love you.
rt full of love and honesty
st thy words before thou giv
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
For such things in a false disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom; but in a man that
re close dilations, working from the M
That passion cannot rule.
I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
Certain, men should be what they seem.
Why then, I think Cassio
I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false:
s that palace whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure
But some uncleanly apprehensions
Keep leets and law-days, and in session sit
With meditations lawful?
Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
A stranger to thy thoughts.
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature
To spy into abuses, and of my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not,
From one that so imperfectly conceits,
Would take no notice; nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.
What dost thou mean?
Good name in man and woman, dear mM
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash.
Tis something, nothing;
tis his, and has been slave to thousands.
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
ll know thy thoughts.
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,
Nor shall not, whilst
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But O, what damned minutes tells he o
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
d make a life of jealousy,
follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No. To be once in doubt
Is once to be resolv
d: exchange me for a goat
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
Matching thy inference.
Tis not to make me jealous,
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt,
 eyes, and chose me. No, Iago,
ll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this:
Away at once with love or jealousy!
I am glad of it, for now I shall have reason
To show the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure.
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, beM
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands. Their best conscience
Is not to leave undone, but keep unknown.
She did deceive her father, marrying you;
d to shake and fear your looks,
She loved them most.
She that so young could give out such a seeming,
s eyes up close as oak,
twas witchcraft. But I am much to blame.
I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
For too much loving you.
I am bound to thee for ever.
I see this hath a little dash
Not a jot, not a jot.
Trust me, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what is spoke
Comes from my love. But I do see you
I am to pray you not to strain my speech
To grosser issues nor to larger reach
ould you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
Which my thoughts aim
I do not think but Desdemona
Long live she so! And long live you to think so!
And yet, how nature erring from itself
s the point. As, to be bold with you,
Not to affect many proposed matches,
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in allM
 things nature tends;
Foh! One may smell in such a will most rank,
Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me: I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her, though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgement,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, Iago.
[_Going._] My lord, I take my leave.
Why did I marry? This honest crM
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
[_Returning._] My lord, I would I might entreat your honour
To scan this thing no further. Leave it to time:
Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
For sure he fills it up with great ability,
Yet if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by that perceive him and his means.
Note if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity,
Much will be seen in that. In the meantime,
Let me be thought toM
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am)
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
Fear not my government.
I once more take my leave.
s of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
d whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black,
And have not those soft parts of coM
That chamberers have, or for I am declin
Into the vale of years,
Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love
tis the plague of great ones,
d are they less than the base,
Tis destiny unshunnable, like deathM
Even then this forked plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes.
If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
 Enter Desdemona and Emilia.
How now, my dear Othello?
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.
Why do you speak so faintly?
I have a pain upon my forehead here.
Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
Your napkin is too little;
 [_He puts the handkerchief from him, and she drops it._]
Let it alone. Come, I
I am very sorry that you are not well.
 [_Exeunt Othello and Desdemona._]
I am glad I have found this napkin;
This was her first remembrance from the Moor.
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
d me to steal it. But she so loves the token,
That she reserves it evermore about her
To kiss and talk to. I
t Iago. What he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I,
I nothing but to please his fantasy.
How now? What do you here alone?
Do not you chide. I have a thing for you.
A thing for me? It is a common thing
To have a foolish wife.
O, is that all? What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona,
That which so often you did bid me steal.
No, faith, she let it drop by negligence,
And, to the advantage, I being here, took
A good wench, give it me.
What will you do with
t, that you have been so earnest
To have me filch it?
[_Snatching it._] Why, what
If it be not for someM
t me again. Poor lady, she
When she shall lack it.
t, I have use for it.
s lodging lose this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poison:
Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
ttle act upon the blood
Burn like the mines of sulphur. I did say so.
Look, where he comes. Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Ha! ha! false to me?
Why, how now, general? No more of that.
Avaunt! be gone! Thou hast set me on the rack.
tis better to be much abus
What sense had I of her stol
t not, thought it not, it harm
I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
s kisses on her lips.
d, not wanting what is stol
I am sorry to hear this.
I had been happy if the general camp,
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever
Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell contentM
Farewell the plumed troops and the big wars
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell,
Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
s dread clamours counterfeit,
t possible, my lord?
Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore;
 it. Give me the ocular proof,
Or, by the worth of man
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
t, or at the least so prove it,
That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
To hang a doubt on, or woe upon thy life!
If thou dost slander her and torture me,
Never pray more. Abandon all remorse;
s head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heaven weep,M
For nothing canst thou to damnation add
O grace! O heaven defend me!
Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?
 you. Take mine office.
st to make thine honesty a vice!
O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,
To be direct and honest is not safe.
I thank you for this profit, and from hence
ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.
Nay, stay. Thou shouldst be honest.
 be wise; for honesty
And loses that it works for.
I think my wife be honest, and think she is not.
I think that thou art just, and think thou art not.
ll have some proof: her name, that was as fresh
s visage, is now begrim
As mine own face. If there be cords or knives,
Poison or fire, or suffocating streams,
t. Would I were satisfied!
I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion.
I do repent me that I put it to M
You would be satisfied?
And may; but how? How satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on,
Death and damnation! O!
It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then,
If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
More than their own! What then? How then?
What shall I say? Where
It is impossible you should see this,
Were they as prime as goats, as hot M
As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
As ignorance made drunk. But yet I say,
If imputation and strong circumstances,
Which lead directly to the door of truth,
Will give you satisfaction, you may have
Give me a living reason she
I do not like the office,
d in this cause so far,
t by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately,
And being troubled with a raging tooth,
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs.
One of this kind is Cassio:
In sleep I heard him say,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
 and then kiss me hard,
d up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips, then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh
Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!
monstrous! monstrous!
Nay, this was but his dream.
But this denoted a foregone conclusion.
Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
And this may help to thicken other proofs
That do demonstrate thinly.
ll tear her all to pieces.
Nay, but be wise. Yet we see nothing done,
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries in your wife
I gave her such a one,
I know not that: but such a handkerchief
(I am sure it was your wife
See Cassio wipe his beard with.
If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.
O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge!
tis true. Look here, Iago;
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow hell!
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
O, blood, Iago, blood!
Patience, I say. Your mind perhaps may change.
Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea,
Whose icy current and compulsive course
er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont;
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace
Till that a capable and wide revenge
Swallow them up. Now by yond marble heaven,
In the due reverence of a sacred vow [_Kneels._]
I here engage my words.
Do not rise yet. [_Kneels._]
Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
s service! Let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody business ever.
Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will upon the instant put thee to
Within these three days let me hear thee say
Tis done at your request.
Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her, damn her!
Come, go with me apart, I will withdraw
To furnish me with some swift means of death
For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
I am your own for ever.
prus. Before the Castle.
 Enter Desdemona, Emilia and Clown.
Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
I dare not say he lies anywhere.
s a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies is stabbing.
Go to. Where lodges he?
To tell you where he lodges is to tell you where I lie.
Can anything be made of this?
I know not where he lodges; and for me to devise a lodging, and say he
or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat.
Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?
I will catechize the world for him, that is, make questions and by them
Seek him, bid him come hither. Tell him I have moved my lord on his
behalf, and hope all will be well.
To do this is within the compass of man
s wit, and therefore I will
attempt the doing it.
Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
Full of crusadoes. And but my noble Moor
Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
As jealous creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill thinking.
Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
Drew all such humours from him.
Look, where he comes.
I will not leave him now till Cassio
t with you, my lord?
Well, my good lady. [_Aside._] O, hardness to dissemble!
How do you, Desdemona?
Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.
It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.
This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart.
Hot, hot, and moist. This hand of yours requires
A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer,
Much castigation, exercise devout;
s a young and sweating devil here
That commonly rebels.
You may indeed say so,
twas that hand that gave away my heart.
A liberal hand. The hearts of old gave hands,
But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
What promise, chuck?
I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me.
Lend me thy handkerchief.
That which I gave you.
I have it not about me.
That is a fault. That handkerchief
Did an Egyptian to my mother give.
She was a charmer, and could almost read
The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
Twould make her amiable and subdue my father
Entirely to her love. But if she lost it,
Or made a gift of it, my father
Should hold her loathed, and his spirits should hunt
After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me,
And bid me, when myM
 fate would have me wive,
To give it her. I did so; and take heed on
Make it a darling like your precious eye.
t away were such perdition
As nothing else could match.
s magic in the web of it.
A sibyl, that had number
The sun to course two hundred compasses,
In her prophetic fury sew
The worms were hallow
d that did breed the silk,
And it was dyed in mummy, which the skillful
Most veritable, therefore look to
Then would to God that I had never seen
Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
t gone? speak, is it out of the way?
It is not lost, but what and if it were?
I say it is not lost.
Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
This is a trick to put me from my suit.
Pray you, let Cassio be receiv
Fetch me the handkerchief! My mind misgives.
ll never meet a more sufficient man.
I pray, talk me of Cassio.
A man that all his time
Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
In sooth, you are to blame.
Is not this man jealous?
s some wonder in this handkerchief,
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
Tis not a year or two shows us a man:
They are all but stomachs and we all but food;
They eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
 Enter Cassio and Iago.
Look you, Cassio and my husband.
There is no other wM
And, lo, the happiness! Go and importune her.
How now, good Cassio, what
s the news with you?
Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you
That by your virtuous means I may again
Exist, and be a member of his love,
Whom I, with all the office of my heart,
Entirely honour. I would not be delay
If my offence be of such mortal kind
That nor my service past, nor present sorrows,
d merit in futurity,
Can ransom me into his love again,
o know so must be my benefit;
So shall I clothe me in a forc
And shut myself up in some other course
Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio,
My advocation is not now in tune;
My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him
Were he in favour as in humour alter
So help me every spirit sanctified,
As I have spoken for you all my best,
And stood within the blank of his displeasure
For my free speech! You must awhile be patient.
What I can do I will; and more I will
an for myself I dare. Let that suffice you.
He went hence but now,
And certainly in strange unquietness.
Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,
When it hath blown his ranks into the air
And, like the devil, from his very arm
d his own brother, and can he be angry?
Something of moment then. I will go meet him.
t indeed if he be angry.
Something sure of state,
Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
Hath puddled his clear spirit, and in such cases
s natures wrangle with inferior things,
Though great ones are their object.
For let our finger ache, and it indues
Our other healthful members even to that sense
Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not gods,
Nor of them look for such observancy
As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,
I was (unhandsome warrior as I am)
Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
But now I find I had suborn
Pray heaven it be state matters, as you think,
And no conception nor no jealous toy
Alas the day, I never gave him cause!
But jealous souls will not be answer
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they are jealous:
Begot upon itself, born on itself.
Heaven keep that monster from Othello
I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout:
If I do find him fit, I
And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
I humbly thank your ladyship.
 [_Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia._]
Save you, friend Cassio!
What make you from home?
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
 faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
What, keep a week away? Seven days and nights?
e eight hours, and lovers
More tedious than the dial eight score times?
I have this while with leaden thoughts been press
But I shall in a more continuate time
Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
 [_Giving her Desdemona
Take me this work out.
O Cassio, whence came this?
This is some token from a newer friend.
To the felt absence now I feel a cause.
t come to this? Well, well.
Throw your vile guesses in the devil
From whence you have them. You are jealous now
That this is from some mistress, some remembrance.
No, in good troth, Bianca.
I know not neither. I found it in my chamber.
I like the work well. Ere it be demanded,
As like enough it will, I
t, and leave me for this time.
Leave you, wherefore?
I do attend here on the general,
o addition, nor my wish,
To have him see me woman
Not that I love you not.
But that you do not love me.
I pray you bring me on the way a little,
And say if I shall see you soon at night.
Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
For I attend here. But I
Tis very good; I must be circumstanc
SCENE I. Cyprus. Before the Castle.
 Enter Othello and Iago.
Or to be naked with her friend in bed
An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm?
It is hypocrisy against the devil:
They that mean virtuously and yet do so,
The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.
So they do nothing,
But if I give my wife a handkerchief
tis hers, my lord, and being hers,
She may, I think, bestow
She is protectress of her honour too.
Her honour is an essence that
They have it very oft that have it not:
But for the handkerchief
By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.
er the infected house,
Boding to all) he had my handkerchief.
If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
Or heard him say (as knaves be such abroad,
Who having, by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
But they must blab.)
Hath he said anything?
He hath, my lord, but be you well assur
I know not what he did.
With her, on her, what you will.
Lie with her! lie on her!
We say lie on her when they belie her.
s fulsome. Handkerchief
confess, and be hanged for his labour. First, to be hanged, and then to
confess. I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such
shadowing passion without some instruction. It is not words that shake
me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips. Is
 [_Falls in a trance._]
My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught,
And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! my lord!
My lord, I say! Othello!
My lord is fallen into an epilepsy.
This is his second fit. He had one yesterday.
Rub him about the temples.
The lethargy must have his quiet course.
foams at mouth, and by and by
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs:
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover straight. When he is gone,
I would on great occasion speak with you.
How is it, general? Have you not hurt your head?
I mock you? No, by heaven.
Would you would bear your fortune like a man!
s a monster and a beast.
s many a beast, then, in a populous city,
Think every bearded fellow that
May draw with you. There
s millions now alive
That nightly lie in those unproper beds
Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.
tis the spite of hell, the fiend
To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know,
And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
Confine yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here o
erwhelmed with your grief,
(A passion most unsuiting such a man)
Cassio came hither. I shifted him away,
scuse upon your ecstasy,
Bade him anon return, and here speak with me,
d. Do but encave yourself,
And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of his face;
For I will make him tell the tale anew,
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
 and is again to cope your wife:
I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience,
Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.
Dost thou hear, Iago?
I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
 [_Othello withdraws._]
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A housewife that by selling her desires
Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature
To beguile many and be beguil
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter. Here he comes.
As he shall smile Othello shall go mad,
And his unbookish jealousy must construe
s smiles, gestures, and light behaviour
Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?
The worser that you give me the addition
Whose want even kills me.
Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on
eaking lower._] Now, if this suit lay in Bianca
How quickly should you speed!
[_Aside._] Look how he laughs already!
I never knew a woman love man so.
Alas, poor rogue! I think, i
 faith, she loves me.
[_Aside._] Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out.
Do you hear, Cassio?
Now he importunes him
er. Go to, well said, well said.
She gives it out that you shall marry her.
Do you triumph, Roman? Do you triumph?
I marry her? What? A customer? I prithee, bear some charity to my wit,
do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!
So, so, so, so. They laugh that wins.
Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
I am a very villain else.
Have you scored me? Well.
s own giving out. She is persuaded I will marry her,
out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promise.
Iago beckons me. Now he begins the story.
She was here even now. She haunts me in every place. I was the other
day talking on the sea-bank with certain Venetians, and thither comes
the bauble, and falls thus about my neck.
 as it were: his gesture imports it.
So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales and pulls me. Ha, ha,
Now he tells how she plucked him M
to my chamber. O, I see that nose of
yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to.
Well, I must leave her company.
Before me! look where she comes.
Tis such another fitchew! Marry, a perfum
What do you mean by this haunting of me?
Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean by that same
handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine fool to take it. I must
take out the work? A likely piece of work, that you should find it in
your chamber and not know who left it there! This is some minx
and I must take out the work? There, give it your hobby-horse.
Wheresoever you had it, I
ll take out no work on
How now, my sweet Bianca? How now, how now?
By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
ll come to supper tonight, you may. If you will not, come when
you are next prepared for.
After her, after her.
ll rail in the streetM
Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very fain speak with you.
Prithee come, will you?
[_Coming forward._] How shall I murder him, Iago?
Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
And did you see the handkerchief?
Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman M
wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.
I would have him nine years a-killing. A fine woman, a fair woman, a
Nay, you must forget that.
Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned tonight, for she shall not
live. No, my heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my
hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature. She might lie by an
s side, and command him tasks.
do but say what she is. So delicate with her needle, an
admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear! Of
so high and plenteous wit and invention!
s the worse for all this.
O, a thousand, a thousand times: and then of so gentle a condition!
s certain. But yet the pity of it, Iago! O Iago, the pity of
If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend, for if
it touch not you, it cM
I will chop her into messes. Cuckold me!
Get me some poison, Iago; this night. I
ll not expostulate with her,
lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again. This night, Iago.
Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath
Good, good. The justice of it pleases. Very good.
And for Cassio, let me be his underM
taker. You shall hear more by
Excellent good. [_A trumpet within._] What trumpet is that same?
 Enter Lodovico, Desdemona and Attendant.
Something from Venice, sure.
Come from the duke. See, your wife is with him.
Save you, worthy general!
With all my heart, sir.
The duke and senators of Venice greet you.
 [_Gives him a packet._]
I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
 [_Opens the packet and reads._]M
s the news, good cousin Lodovico?
I am very glad to see you, signior.
I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
n between him and my lord
An unkind breach, but you shall make all well.
Are you sure of that?
This fail you not to do, as you will
s busy in the paper.
twixt my lord and Cassio?
A most unhappy one. I would do much
To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
May be the letter mov
For, as I think, they do command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government.
Trust me, I am glad on
I am glad to see you mad.
My lord, this would not be believ
Though I should swear I saw
Make her amends. She weeps.
If that the earth could teem with woman
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
I will not stay to offend you.
Truly, an obedient lady.
I do beseech your lordship, caM
What would you with her, sir?
Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn.
Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again. And she can weep, sir, weep;
s obedient, as you say, obedient,
Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.
Concerning this, sir,
O well-painted passion!
I am commanded home.
ll send for you anon.
Sir, I obey the mandate,
 [_Exit Desdemona._]
Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight,
I do entreat that we may sup together.
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkeys!
Is this the noble Moor, whom our full senate
Call all in all sufficient? Is this the nature
Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
The shot of accident nor dart of chance
Could neither graze nor pierce?
Are his wits safe? Is he M
s that he is. I may not breathe my censure
What he might be. If what he might he is not,
I would to heaven he were!
What, strike his wife?
Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew
That stroke would prove the worst!
Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new-create this fault?
It is not honesty in me to speak
What I have seen and known. You shall observe him,
And his own courses will denoteM
That I may save my speech: do but go after,
And mark how he continues.
I am sorry that I am deceiv
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
 Enter Othello and Emilia.
You have seen nothing, then?
Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
Each syllable that breath made up between them.
What, did they never whisper?
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,
Remove your thought, it doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in your head,
Let heaven requite it with the serpent
For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
 happy. The purest of their wives
Bid her come hither. Go.
She says enough. Yet she
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet lock and key of villainous secrets.
ll kneel and pray. I have seen her do
 Enter Desdemona and Emilia.
My lord, what is your will?
Pray, chuck, come hither.
What is your pleasure?
Let me see your eyes.
[_To Emilia._] Some of your function, mistress,
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door.
Cough, or cry hem, if anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery. Nay, dispatch.
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
Come, swear it, damn thyself,
ke one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee. Therefore be double-damn
Swear thou art honest.
Heaven doth truly know it.
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?
O Desdemona, away! away! away!
Alas the heavy day, why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
If haply you my father do suspect
An instrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame M
on me. If you have lost him,
Why, I have lost him too.
To try me with affliction, had they rain
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head,
d me in poverty to the very lips,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience. But, alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at.
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well:
But there, where I have garner
Where either I must live or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up, to be discarded thence,
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
To knot and gender in!
turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp
Ay, there, look grim as hell!
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell
That the sense aches at thee,
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
 upon? What committed?
Committed! O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
And will not hear it. What committed!
By heaven, you do me wrong.
Are not you a strumpet?
No, as I am a Christian:
If to preserve this vessel for my lord
From any other foul unlawful touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
No, as I shall be sav
O, heaven forgive us!
I cry you mercy then.
I took you for that cunning whorM
That married with Othello.
That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keeps the gate of hell. You, you, ay, you!
We have done our course; there
s money for your pains.
I pray you turn the key, and keep our counsel.
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? How do you, my good lady?
s the matter with my lord?
Why, with my lord, madam.
He that is yours, sweet lady.
I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia,
I cannot weep, nor answer have I none
But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets, remember,
And call thy husband hither.
Tis meet I should be us
How have I been behav
d, that he might stick
st opinion on my least misuse?M
 Enter Iago and Emilia.
What is your pleasure, madam? How is
I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
He might have chid me so, for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.
Am I that name, Iago?
What name, fair lady?
ch as she says my lord did say I was.
d her whore: a beggar in his drink
Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
I do not know. I am sure I am none such.
Do not weep, do not weep: alas the day!
Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father, and her country, and her friends,
d whore? would it not make one weep?
It is my wretched fortune.
How comes this trick M
Nay, heaven doth know.
d, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Fie, there is no such man. It is impossible.
If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form? what likelihoM
s abused by some most villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
O heaven, that such companions thou
And put in every honest hand a whip
To lash the rascals naked through the world
Even from the east to the west!
O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was
d your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
You are a fool. Go to.
 to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him. For by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel.
er my will did trespass
Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form,
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will, (though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement) love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
aint my love. I cannot say
It does abhor me now I speak the word;
To do the act that might the addition earn
s mass of vanity could make me.
I pray you, be content.
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you.
Tis but so, I warrant.
 [_Trumpets within._]
Hark, how these instruments summon to supper.
The messengers of Venice stay the meat.
Go in, and weep not. AllM
 things shall be well.
 [_Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia._]
I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
What in the contrary?
Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago, and rather, as it
seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency than suppliest me with
the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am
I yet persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly
Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and performances are no
You charge me most unjustly.
With naught but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels
you have had from me to deliver to Desdemona would half have corrupted
a votarist: you have told me she hath received them, and returned me
expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance, but I
Well, go to, very well.
l, go to, I cannot go to, man, nor
tis not very well. Nay, I
tis very scurvy, and begin to find myself fopped in it.
tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona.
If she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my
unlawful solicitation. If not, assure yourself I will seek satisfaction
Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.
s mettle in thee, and even from this instant do
build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand,
Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just exception, but yet I
protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.
It hath not appeared.
I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your suspicion is not without
wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed,
which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,
this night show it. If thou the next night
following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery
and devise engines for my life.
Well, what is it? Is it within reason and compass?
Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to depute Cassio in
Is that true? Why then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.
O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair
Desdemona, unless his abode be lingeredM
 here by some accident: wherein
none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio.
Why, by making him uncapable of Othello
s place: knocking out his
And that you would have me to do?
Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups tonight with
a harlotry, and thither will I go to him. He knows not yet of his
honourable fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which I will
fashion to fall out betweeM
n twelve and one, you may take him at your
pleasure: I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall
between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me. I will
show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself
bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows
I will hear further reason for this.
And you shall be satisfied.
SCENE III. Cyprus. Another Room in the Castle.
 Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia and Attendants.
I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
twill do me good to walk.
Madam, good night. I humbly thank your ladyship.
Your honour is most welcome.
Get you to bed on th
 instant, I will be return
d forthwith. Dismiss
your attendant there. Look
eunt Othello, Lodovico and Attendants._]
How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did.
He says he will return incontinent,
He hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bade me to dismiss you.
It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
I would you had never seen him!
So would not I. My love doth so approve him,
That even his stubbornness, his checks, his M
have grace and favour in them.
I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me
In one of those same sheets.
Come, come, you talk.
My mother had a maid call
She was in love, and he she lov
And did forsake her. She had a song of
twas, but it express
he died singing it. That song tonight
Will not go from my mind. I have much to do
But to go hang my head all at one side
And sing it like poor Barbary. Prithee dispatch.
Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
This Lodovico is a proper man.
A very handsome man.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a
touch of his nether lip.
    _The poor soul sat sighing by M
        Sing all a green willow.
    Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
        Sing willow, willow, willow.
    The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur
        Sing willow, willow, willow;
    Her salt tears fell from her, and soften
        _Sing willow, willow, willow._
Prithee hie thee. He
    _Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him, his scorn I appM
s not next. Hark! who is
d my love false love; but what said he then?
        Sing willow, willow, willow:
    If I court mo women, you
ll couch with mo men._
So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch;
Doth that bode weeping?
Tis neither here nor there.
I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!
Dost thou in conscience think,
there be women do abuse their husbands
There be some such, no question.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
No, by this heavenly light!
Nor I neither by this heavenly light,
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
s a huge thing. It is a great price
In troth, I think thou wouldst noM
In troth, I think I should, and undo
t when I had done. Marry, I would
not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for
gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but, for the
why, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a
monarch? I should venture purgatory for
Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.
Why, the wrong is but a wrong i
 the world; and having the world for
tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make
I do not think there is any such woman.
Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would store the world they
But I do think it is their husbands
If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties,
And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us. Or say they strike us,
Or scant our former having in despite.
lls; and though we have some grace,
Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know
Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell
And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it that they do
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
t frailty that thus errs?
It is so too. And have not we affections,
Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?
Then let them use us well: else let them know,
, their ills instruct us so.
Good night, good night. Heaven me such usage send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!
SCENE I. Cyprus. A Street.
 Enter Iago and Roderigo.
Here, stand behind this bulk. Straight will he come.
Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.
Quick, quick, fear nothing; I
It makes us, or it mars us, think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.
Be near at hand, I may miscarry in
Here, at thy hand. Be bold, and take thy stand.
 [_Retires to a little distance._]
I have no great devotion to the deed;
And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons.
Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword; he dies.
 [_Goes to his stand._]
d this young quat almost to the sense,
And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my gain. Live Roderigo,
He calls me to a restitution large
As gifts to Desdemona.
It must not be. If Cassio do remain,
He hath a daily beauty in his life
That makes me ugly. And besides, the Moor
May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril.
No, he must die. But so, I hear him coming.
tis he. Villain, thou diest!
 [_Rushes out, and makes a pass at Cassio._]
That thrust had been mine enemy indeed,
But that my coat is better than thou know
I will make proof oM
 [_Draws, and wounds Roderigo._]
 [_Iago rushes from his post, cuts Cassio behind in the leg, and
d forever. Help, ho! murder, murder!
The voice of Cassio. Iago keeps his word.
O, villain that I am!
O, help, ho! light! a surgeon!
Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just,
That hast such noble sense of thy friend
minion, your dear lies dead,
d fate hies. Strumpet, I come!
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
 Enter Lodovico and Gratiano.
What, ho! No watch? No passage? murder, murder!
Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.
Two or three groan. It is a heavy night.
These may be counterfeits. Let
To come in to the cry without more help.
Nobody come? Then shall I bleed to death.
 Enter Iago with a light.
s one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
s there? Whose noise is this that cries on murder?
Did not you hear a cry?
Here, here! for heaven
ancient, as I take it.
The same indeed, a very valiant fellow.
What are you here that cry so grievously?
d, undone by villains!
O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this?
I think that one of them is hereabout,
And cannot make away.
O treacherous villains!
[_To Lodovico and Gratiano._] What are you there?
Come in and give some help.
O murderous slave! O villain!
 [_Stabs Roderigo._]
d Iago! O inhuman dog!
 the dark! Where be these bloody thieves?
How silent is this town! Ho! murder! murder!
What may you be? Are you of good or evil?
As you shall prove us, praise us.
I cry you mercy. Here
s Cassio hurt by villains.
My leg is cut in two.
ll bind it with my shirt.
What is the matter, ho? Who is
O my dear Cassio, my sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect
Who they should be that have thus mangled you?
I am sorry to find you thus; I have been to seek you.
Lend me a garter. So.
To bear him easily hence!
Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
To be a party in this injury.
Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;
Lend me a light. Know we this face or no?
Alas, my friend and my dear countryman
Roderigo? No. Yes, sure; O heaven! Roderigo.
Even he, sir. Did you know him?
Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon.
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
I am glad to see you.
How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
 [_A chair brought in._]
s well said; the chair.
Some good man bear him carefully from hence,
ll fetch the general
s surgeon. [_To Bianca_] For you, mistress,
Save you your labour. He that lies slain here, Cassio,
Was my dear friend. What malice was between you?
None in the world. Nor do I know the man.
[_To Bianca._] WhatM
 [_Cassio and Roderigo are borne off._]
Stay you, good gentlemen.
Look you pale, mistress?
Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?
Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.
Behold her well. I pray you, look upon her.
Do you see, gentlemen? Nay, guiltiness will speak
Though tongues were out of use.
s the matter, husband?
Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
s almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia,
Go know of Cassio where he supp
What, do you shake at that?
d at my house, but I therefore shake not.
O, did he so? I charge you go with me.
Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!
I am no strumpet, but of life as honest
As you that thus abuse me.
s go see poor Cassio dress
Come, mistress, you must tell
Emilia, run you to the citadel,
And tell my lord and lady what hath happ
Will you go on afore? [_Aside._] This is the night
That either makes me or fordoes me quite.
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Bedchamber in the castle.
Desdemona in bed asleep; a light burning.
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,
Let me not name it to you, you chasM
It is the cause. Yet I
ll not shed her blood,
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Yet she must die, else she
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me. But once put out thy light,
st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck
I cannot give it vital growth again,
It must needs wither. I
ll smell it on the tree.
O, balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after. One more, and this the last.
er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears. This sorrow
It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
Will you come to bed, my lord?
d tonight, Desdemona?
If you bethink yourself of any crime
d as yet to heaven and grace,
Solicit for it straight.
Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?
Well, do it, and be brief, I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit,
No, heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul.
Talk you of killing?
en heaven have mercy on me!
Amen, with all my heart!
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
And yet I fear you, for you are fatal then
When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,
Since guiltiness I know not, but yet I feel I fear.
They are loves I bear to you.
Ay, and for that thou diest.
s unnatural that kills for loving.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nM
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame.
These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.
Peace, and be still!
That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee,
No, by my life and soul!
Send for the man and ask him.
Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury,
rt on thy death-bed.
Ay, but not yet to die.
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin.
For to deny each article with oath
Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
Then, Lord have mercy on me!
And have you mercy too! I never did
Offend you in my life,	 never lov
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love. I never gave him token.
By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in
d woman, thou dost stone mM
st me call what I intend to do
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.
I saw the handkerchief.
I never gave it him. Send for him hither.
Let him confess a truth.
No, his mouth is stopp
rets! What, is he dead?
Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
Had stomach for them all.
st thou for him to my face?
O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight!
Being done, there is no pause.
But while I say one prayer!M
[_Within._] My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!
What noise is this? Not dead? Not yet quite dead?
I that am cruel am yet merciful,
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
[_Within._] What, ho! my lord, my lord!
[_Within._] O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!
Tis Emilia, by and by. She
Tis like she comes to speak of CassM
Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Were
I think she stirs again; no. What
ll sure speak to my wife.
My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife.
O, insupportable! O heavy hour!
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe
Should yawn at alteration.
[_Within._] I do beseech you
That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!
 thee: O, come in, Emilia.
Soft, by and by; let me the curtains draw.
 [_Unlocks the door._]
s the matter with thee now?
O, my good lord, yonder
s foul murders done!
It is the very error of the moon,
She comes more nearer earth than she was wont
Cassio, my lord, hath kill
No, Cassio is not kill
And sweet revenge grows harsh.
O, falsely, falsely murder
Alas, what cry is that?
Out, and alas! That was my lady
Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again,
Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!
A guiltless death I die.
O, who hath done this deed?
Nobody; I myself. Farewell.
Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell!
Why, how should she be murder
You heard her say herself, it was not I.
She said so. I must needs report the truth.
s like a liar, gone to burning hell.
O, the more angel she,
And you the blacker devil!
d to folly, and she was a whore.
Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.
She was false as water.
Thou art rash as fire, to say
That she was false: O, she was heavenly true!
Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.
d beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
That she was false to wedlock?
Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true,
If heaven would make me such another world
Of one entire and perfect M
d not have sold her for it.
twas he that told me first.
An honest man he is, and hates the slime
That sticks on filthy deeds.
What needs this iterance, woman? I say thy husband.
O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!
My husband say that she was false?
I say thy husband: dost understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart.
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven
Than thou wast worthy her.
Peace, you were best.
Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
As ignorant as dirt! Thou hast done a deed
(I care not for thy sword) I
Though I lost twenty lives. Help! help, ho! help!
d my mistress! Murder, murder!
 Enter Montano, Gratiano and Iago.
What is the matter? How now, general?
O, are you come, Iago? You have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck.
Disprove this villain, if thou be
st him that his wife was false.
I know thou didst not, thou
rt not such a villain.
Speak, for my heart is full.
I told him what I thought, and told no more
hat he found himself was apt and true.
But did you ever tell him she was false?
You told a lie, an odious, damned lie;
Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie.
She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio?
With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak.
My mistress here lies murder
And your reports have set the murder on.
 masters, it is true indeed.
Tis a strange truth.
Villany, villany, villany!
I thought so then. I
ll kill myself for grief.
What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.
Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak.
Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
Perchance, Iago, I will ne
 [_Hanging over his wife._]
y, lay thee down and roar;
d the sweetest innocent
[_Rising._] O, she was foul!
I scarce did know you, uncle, there lies your niece,
Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stopp
I know this act shows horrible and grim.
Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father
Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,
This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
Yea, curse his betteM
r angel from his side,
And fall to reprobance.
Tis pitiful. But yet Iago knows
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed; Cassio confess
And she did gratify his amorous works
With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand.
It was a handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.
O heaven! O heavenly powers!
Come, hold your peace.
ill speak as liberal as the north.
Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I
Be wise, and get you home.
 [_Iago offers to stab his wife._]
Your sword upon a woman?
O thou dull Moor, that handkerchief thou speak
I found by fortune and did give my husband;
For often with a solemn earnestness,
More than indeed belong
d of me to steal it.
She give it Cassio! no, alas, I found it,
By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.
O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool
Do with so good a wife?
Are there not stones in heaven
But what serve for thunder? Precious villain!
 [_Iago stabs Emilia and then runs out._]
The woman falls. Sure, he hath kill
Ay, ay. O, lay me by my mistress
s gone, but his wife
Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon,
Which I have here recover
Come, guard the door without, let him not pass,
But kill him rather. I
ll after that same villain,
 [_Exit Montano and Gratiano._]
I am not valiant neither,
But every puny whipster gets my sword.
But why should honour outlive honesty?
What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? M
I will play the swan,
[_Sings._] _Willow, willow, willow._
Moor, she was chaste. She lov
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, I die, I die.
I have another weapon in this chamber,
It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook
O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth.
[_Within._] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear;
Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
n me then, and speak with me,
Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
Behold, I have a weapon.
A better never did itself sustain
s thigh: I have seen the day
That with this little arm and this good sword
I have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times your stop. But, O vain boast!
Who can control his fate?
Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
Do you go back dismay
Man but a rush against Othello
And he retires. Where should Othello go?
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr
Pale as thy smock, when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!
Even like thy chastity.
O cursed, cursed slave! Whip me, ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winM
ds, roast me in sulphur,
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
O Desdemon! Dead, Desdemon! dead! Oh, oh!
 Enter Lodovico, Montano, Cassio carried in a chair, and Officers with
Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
s he that was Othello. Here I am.
Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.
I look down towards his feet; but that
st a devil, I cannot kill thee.
Wrench his sword from him.
I bleed, sir, but not kill
I am not sorry neither. I
tis happiness to die.
O thou Othello, that wert once so good,
n in the practice of a damned slave,
What shall be said to thee?
An honourable murderer, if you will.
For naught did I in hate, but all in honour.
This wretch hath part confess
Did you and he consent in Cassio
Dear general, I never gave you cause.
I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil
Why he hath thus ensnar
Demand me nothing. What you know, you know.
From this time forth I never will speak word.
Torments will ope your lips.
Well, thou dost best.
Sir, you shall understand what hath befall
Which, as I think, you know not.M
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo,
And here another. The one of them imports
The death of Cassio, to be undertook
Most heathenish and most gross!
s another discontented paper,
Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain,
But that, belike, Iago in the interim
Came in and satisfied him.
O the pernicious caitiff!
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerM
I found it in my chamber.
And he himself confess
d it for a special purpose
Which wrought to his desire.
There is besides in Roderigo
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me upon the watch, whereon it came
That I was cast. And even but now he spake,
After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
You must forsake this room, and go with us.
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,
If there be any cunning cruelty
That can torment him much and hold him long,
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
Till that the nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian state. Come, bring away.
Soft you; a word or two before you go.
I have done the state some service, and they know
No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
m. Nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely, but too well;
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought,
d in the extreme; of one whose hand,
Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdu
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this.
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him, thus.
d thee. No way but this,
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
 [_Falling upon Desdemona._]
This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon,
For he was great of heart.
[_To Iago._] O Spartan dog,
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea,
 tragic loading of this bed.
This is thy work. The object poisons sight,
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,
Remains the censure of this hellish villain.
The time, the place, the torture, O, enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard, and to the state
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: Paul, called to be an apostle of Jesus Christ through the will of God, and Sosthenes our brother,
1:2: Unto the church of God which is at Corinth, to them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all that in every place call upon the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours:
1:3: Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
1:4: I thank my God always M
on your behalf, for the grace of God which is given you by Jesus Christ;
1:5: That in every thing ye are enriched by him, in all utterance, and in all knowledge;
1:6: Even as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you:
1:7: So that ye come behind in no gift; waiting for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ:
1:8: Who shall also confirm you unto the end, that ye may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.
1:9: God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
0: Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment.
1:11: For it hath been declared unto me of you, my brethren, by them which are of the house of Chloe, that there are contentions among you.
1:12: Now this I say, that every one of you saith, I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ.
1:13: Is Christ divided? was PaulM
 crucified for you? or were ye baptized in the name of Paul?
1:14: I thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius;
1:15: Lest any should say that I had baptized in mine own name.
1:16: And I baptized also the household of Stephanas: besides, I know not whether I baptized any other.
1:17: For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect.
1:18: For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness;M
 but unto us which are saved it is the power of God.
1:19: For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.
1:20: Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?
1:21: For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.
1:22: For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek aftM
1:23: But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumblingblock, and unto the Greeks foolishness;
1:24: But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.
1:25: Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
1:26: For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called:
1:27: But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confoM
und the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty;
1:28: And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are:
1:29: That no flesh should glory in his presence.
1:30: But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption:
1:31: That, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.M
2:1: And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God.
2:2: For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
2:3: And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.
2:4: And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:
2:5: That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of M
2:6: Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought:
2:7: But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world unto our glory:
2:8: Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.
2:9: But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things whiM
ch God hath prepared for them that love him.
2:10: But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God.
2:11: For what man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him? even so the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God.
2:12: Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God.
2:13: Which things also we speak, not in the M
words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth; comparing spiritual things with spiritual.
2:14: But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.
2:15: But he that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man.
2:16: For who hath known the mind of the Lord, that he may instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ.
3:1: And I, brethren, could noM
t speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ.
3:2: I have fed you with milk, and not with meat: for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able.
3:3: For ye are yet carnal: for whereas there is among you envying, and strife, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as men?
3:4: For while one saith, I am of Paul; and another, I am of Apollos; are ye not carnal?
3:5: Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed, even as the LorM
d gave to every man?
3:6: I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase.
3:7: So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.
3:8: Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour.
3:9: For we are labourers together with God: ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building.
3:10: According to the grace of God which is given unto me, as a wise masterbuilder, I have laid the fM
oundation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon.
3:11: For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.
3:12: Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble;
3:13: Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is.
3:14: If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shM
all receive a reward.
3:15: If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire.
3:16: Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?
3:17: If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.
3:18: Let no man deceive himself. If any man among you seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may be wise.
3:19: For the wisdom of this world is fooM
lishness with God. For it is written, He taketh the wise in their own craftiness.
3:20: And again, The Lord knoweth the thoughts of the wise, that they are vain.
3:21: Therefore let no man glory in men. For all things are yours;
3:22: Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours;
3:23: And ye are Christ's; and Christ is God's.
4:1: Let a man so account of us, as of the ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God.
:2: Moreover it is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful.
4:3: But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment: yea, I judge not mine own self.
4:4: For I know nothing by myself; yet am I not hereby justified: but he that judgeth me is the Lord.
4:5: Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts: and then shall every man have praise of GM
4:6: And these things, brethren, I have in a figure transferred to myself and to Apollos for your sakes; that ye might learn in us not to think of men above that which is written, that no one of you be puffed up for one against another.
4:7: For who maketh thee to differ from another? and what hast thou that thou didst not receive? now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it?
4:8: Now ye are full, now ye are rich, ye have reigned as kings without us: and I would to God yeM
 did reign, that we also might reign with you.
4:9: For I think that God hath set forth us the apostles last, as it were appointed to death: for we are made a spectacle unto the world, and to angels, and to men.
4:10: We are fools for Christ's sake, but ye are wise in Christ; we are weak, but ye are strong; ye are honourable, but we are despised.
4:11: Even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwellingplace;
4:12: And labour, working with our own haM
nds: being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it:
4:13: Being defamed, we intreat: we are made as the filth of the world, and are the offscouring of all things unto this day.
4:14: I write not these things to shame you, but as my beloved sons I warn you.
4:15: For though ye have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers: for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel.
4:16: Wherefore I beseech you, be ye followers of me.
4:17: For this cause have I sent unto you TimothM
eus, who is my beloved son, and faithful in the Lord, who shall bring you into remembrance of my ways which be in Christ, as I teach every where in every church.
4:18: Now some are puffed up, as though I would not come to you.
4:19: But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord will, and will know, not the speech of them which are puffed up, but the power.
4:20: For the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power.
4:21: What will ye? shall I come unto you with a rod, or in love, and in the spirit of meekness?
5:1: It is reported commonly that there is fornication among you, and such fornication as is not so much as named among the Gentiles, that one should have his father's wife.
5:2: And ye are puffed up, and have not rather mourned, that he that hath done this deed might be taken away from among you.
5:3: For I verily, as absent in body, but present in spirit, have judged already, as though I were present, concerning him that hath so done this deed,
5:4: In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when ye are gathered tM
ogether, and my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ,
5:5: To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.
5:6: Your glorying is not good. Know ye not that a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump?
5:7: Purge out therefore the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, as ye are unleavened. For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us:
5:8: Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, neither with the leaven of malicM
e and wickedness; but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.
5:9: I wrote unto you in an epistle not to company with fornicators:
5:10: Yet not altogether with the fornicators of this world, or with the covetous, or extortioners, or with idolaters; for then must ye needs go out of the world.
5:11: But now I have written unto you not to keep company, if any man that is called a brother be a fornicator, or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner; with such an one no not to eM
5:12: For what have I to do to judge them also that are without? do not ye judge them that are within?
5:13: But them that are without God judgeth. Therefore put away from among yourselves that wicked person.
6:1: Dare any of you, having a matter against another, go to law before the unjust, and not before the saints?
6:2: Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world? and if the world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters?
6:3: Know ye not that we shall judge aM
ngels? how much more things that pertain to this life?
6:4: If then ye have judgments of things pertaining to this life, set them to judge who are least esteemed in the church.
6:5: I speak to your shame. Is it so, that there is not a wise man among you? no, not one that shall be able to judge between his brethren?
6:6: But brother goeth to law with brother, and that before the unbelievers.
6:7: Now therefore there is utterly a fault among you, because ye go to law one with another. Why do ye not rather take wrong?M
 why do ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded?
6:8: Nay, ye do wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren.
6:9: Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind,
6:10: Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.
6:11: And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are juM
stified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.
6:12: All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any.
6:13: Meats for the belly, and the belly for meats: but God shall destroy both it and them. Now the body is not for fornication, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body.
6:14: And God hath both raised up the Lord, and will also raise up us by his own power.
6:15: Know ye not that your bodies areM
 the members of Christ? shall I then take the members of Christ, and make them the members of an harlot? God forbid.
6:16: What? know ye not that he which is joined to an harlot is one body? for two, saith he, shall be one flesh.
6:17: But he that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit.
6:18: Flee fornication. Every sin that a man doeth is without the body; but he that committeth fornication sinneth against his own body.
6:19: What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which yeM
 have of God, and ye are not your own?
6:20: For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.
7:1: Now concerning the things whereof ye wrote unto me: It is good for a man not to touch a woman.
7:2: Nevertheless, to avoid fornication, let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband.
7:3: Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: and likewise also the wife unto the husband.
7:4: The wife hath not power of her ownM
 body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife.
7:5: Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to fasting and prayer; and come together again, that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency.
7:6: But I speak this by permission, and not of commandment.
7:7: For I would that all men were even as I myself. But every man hath his proper gift of God, one after this manner, and another after that.
7:8: I say thereforM
e to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I.
7:9: But if they cannot contain, let them marry: for it is better to marry than to burn.
7:10: And unto the married I command, yet not I, but the Lord, Let not the wife depart from her husband:
7:11: But and if she depart, let her remain unmarried, or be reconciled to her husband: and let not the husband put away his wife.
7:12: But to the rest speak I, not the Lord: If any brother hath a wife that believeth not, and she be pleased to dwellM
 with him, let him not put her away.
7:13: And the woman which hath an husband that believeth not, and if he be pleased to dwell with her, let her not leave him.
7:14: For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband: else were your children unclean; but now are they holy.
7:15: But if the unbelieving depart, let him depart. A brother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases: but God hath called us to peace.
7:16: For what knowest thou, O wife, whethM
er thou shalt save thy husband? or how knowest thou, O man, whether thou shalt save thy wife?
7:17: But as God hath distributed to every man, as the Lord hath called every one, so let him walk. And so ordain I in all churches.
7:18: Is any man called being circumcised? let him not become uncircumcised. Is any called in uncircumcision? let him not be circumcised.
7:19: Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, but the keeping of the commandments of God.
7:20: Let every man abide in the same calling wheM
7:21: Art thou called being a servant? care not for it: but if thou mayest be made free, use it rather.
7:22: For he that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is the Lord's freeman: likewise also he that is called, being free, is Christ's servant.
7:23: Ye are bought with a price; be not ye the servants of men.
7:24: Brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therein abide with God.
7:25: Now concerning virgins I have no commandment of the Lord: yet I give my judgment, as one that hath obM
tained mercy of the Lord to be faithful.
7:26: I suppose therefore that this is good for the present distress, I say, that it is good for a man so to be.
7:27: Art thou bound unto a wife? seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? seek not a wife.
7:28: But and if thou marry, thou hast not sinned; and if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned. Nevertheless such shall have trouble in the flesh: but I spare you.
7:29: But this I say, brethren, the time is short: it remaineth, that both they that have wives be aM
s though they had none;
7:30: And they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not;
7:31: And they that use this world, as not abusing it: for the fashion of this world passeth away.
7:32: But I would have you without carefulness. He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord:
7:33: But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife.M
7:34: There is difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband.
7:35: And this I speak for your own profit; not that I may cast a snare upon you, but for that which is comely, and that ye may attend upon the Lord without distraction.
7:36: But if any man think that he behaveth himself uncomely toward his virgin, if she pass tM
he flower of her age, and need so require, let him do what he will, he sinneth not: let them marry.
7:37: Nevertheless he that standeth stedfast in his heart, having no necessity, but hath power over his own will, and hath so decreed in his heart that he will keep his virgin, doeth well.
7:38: So then he that giveth her in marriage doeth well; but he that giveth her not in marriage doeth better.
7:39: The wife is bound by the law as long as her husband liveth; but if her husband be dead, she is at liberty to be marM
ried to whom she will; only in the Lord.
7:40: But she is happier if she so abide, after my judgment: and I think also that I have the Spirit of God.
8:1: Now as touching things offered unto idols, we know that we all have knowledge. Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth.
8:2: And if any man think that he knoweth any thing, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know.
8:3: But if any man love God, the same is known of him.
8:4: As concerning therefore the eating of those things that are offered in saM
crifice unto idols, we know that an idol is nothing in the world, and that there is none other God but one.
8:5: For though there be that are called gods, whether in heaven or in earth, (as there be gods many, and lords many,)
8:6: But to us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we in him; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by him.
8:7: Howbeit there is not in every man that knowledge: for some with conscience of the idol unto this hour eat it as a thing offered unto aM
n idol; and their conscience being weak is defiled.
8:8: But meat commendeth us not to God: for neither, if we eat, are we the better; neither, if we eat not, are we the worse.
8:9: But take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours become a stumblingblock to them that are weak.
8:10: For if any man see thee which hast knowledge sit at meat in the idol's temple, shall not the conscience of him which is weak be emboldened to eat those things which are offered to idols;
8:11: And through thy knowledge shall the weM
ak brother perish, for whom Christ died?
8:12: But when ye sin so against the brethren, and wound their weak conscience, ye sin against Christ.
8:13: Wherefore, if meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend.
9:1: Am I not an apostle? am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord? are not ye my work in the Lord?
9:2: If I be not an apostle unto others, yet doubtless I am to you: for the seal of mine apostleship are ye in the Lord.
9:3: Mine answer to them that do examine me is this,
9:4: Have we not power to eat and to drink?
9:5: Have we not power to lead about a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas?
9:6: Or I only and Barnabas, have not we power to forbear working?
9:7: Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock?
9:8: Say I these things as a man? or saith not tM
he law the same also?
9:9: For it is written in the law of Moses, Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn. Doth God take care for oxen?
9:10: Or saith he it altogether for our sakes? For our sakes, no doubt, this is written: that he that ploweth should plow in hope; and that he that thresheth in hope should be partaker of his hope.
9:11: If we have sown unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall reap your carnal things?
9:12: If others be partakers of this power over youM
, are not we rather? Nevertheless we have not used this power; but suffer all things, lest we should hinder the gospel of Christ.
9:13: Do ye not know that they which minister about holy things live of the things of the temple? and they which wait at the altar are partakers with the altar?
9:14: Even so hath the Lord ordained that they which preach the gospel should live of the gospel.
9:15: But I have used none of these things: neither have I written these things, that it should be so done unto me: for it were betM
ter for me to die, than that any man should make my glorying void.
9:16: For though I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of: for necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel!
9:17: For if I do this thing willingly, I have a reward: but if against my will, a dispensation of the gospel is committed unto me.
9:18: What is my reward then? Verily that, when I preach the gospel, I may make the gospel of Christ without charge, that I abuse not my power in the gospel.
I be free from all men, yet have I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the more.
9:20: And unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews; to them that are under the law, as under the law, that I might gain them that are under the law;
9:21: To them that are without law, as without law, (being not without law to God, but under the law to Christ,) that I might gain them that are without law.
9:22: To the weak became I as weak, that I might gain the weak: I am made all things to all men, thatM
 I might by all means save some.
9:23: And this I do for the gospel's sake, that I might be partaker thereof with you.
9:24: Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain.
9:25: And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible.
9:26: I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air:
9:27: But I keep under my body, and bring it inM
to subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.
10:1: Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how that all our fathers were under the cloud, and all passed through the sea;
10:2: And were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea;
10:3: And did all eat the same spiritual meat;
10:4: And did all drink the same spiritual drink: for they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that Rock was Christ.
th many of them God was not well pleased: for they were overthrown in the wilderness.
10:6: Now these things were our examples, to the intent we should not lust after evil things, as they also lusted.
10:7: Neither be ye idolaters, as were some of them; as it is written, The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play.
10:8: Neither let us commit fornication, as some of them committed, and fell in one day three and twenty thousand.
10:9: Neither let us tempt Christ, as some of them also tempted, and were M
destroyed of serpents.
10:10: Neither murmur ye, as some of them also murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer.
10:11: Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come.
10:12: Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.
10:13: There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptationM
 also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.
10:14: Wherefore, my dearly beloved, flee from idolatry.
10:15: I speak as to wise men; judge ye what I say.
10:16: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?
10:17: For we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread.
10:18: Behold Israel after the flesh: are not they which eat of the sacrifices partakers M
10:19: What say I then? that the idol is any thing, or that which is offered in sacrifice to idols is any thing?
10:20: But I say, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils, and not to God: and I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils.
10:21: Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord, and the cup of devils: ye cannot be partakers of the Lord's table, and of the table of devils.
10:22: Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? are we stronger than he?
10:23: All things arM
e lawful for me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but all things edify not.
10:24: Let no man seek his own, but every man another's wealth.
10:25: Whatsoever is sold in the shambles, that eat, asking no question for conscience sake:
10:26: For the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof.
10:27: If any of them that believe not bid you to a feast, and ye be disposed to go; whatsoever is set before you, eat, asking no question for conscience sake.
10:28: But if any man say unto you,M
 This is offered in sacrifice unto idols, eat not for his sake that shewed it, and for conscience sake: for the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof:
10:29: Conscience, I say, not thine own, but of the other: for why is my liberty judged of another man's conscience?
10:30: For if I by grace be a partaker, why am I evil spoken of for that for which I give thanks?
10:31: Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.
10:32: Give none offence, neither to the Jews, nor to tM
he Gentiles, nor to the church of God:
10:33: Even as I please all men in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved.
11:1: Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ.
11:2: Now I praise you, brethren, that ye remember me in all things, and keep the ordinances, as I delivered them to you.
11:3: But I would have you know, that the head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God.
11:4: Every man praying oM
r prophesying, having his head covered, dishonoureth his head.
11:5: But every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoureth her head: for that is even all one as if she were shaven.
11:6: For if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorn: but if it be a shame for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be covered.
11:7: For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God: but the woman is the glory of the man.
11:8: For the man is not of the womaM
n; but the woman of the man.
11:9: Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man.
11:10: For this cause ought the woman to have power on her head because of the angels.
11:11: Nevertheless neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord.
11:12: For as the woman is of the man, even so is the man also by the woman; but all things of God.
11:13: Judge in yourselves: is it comely that a woman pray unto God uncovered?
11:14: Doth not even nature itself teach yoM
u, that, if a man have long hair, it is a shame unto him?
11:15: But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering.
11:16: But if any man seem to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither the churches of God.
11:17: Now in this that I declare unto you I praise you not, that ye come together not for the better, but for the worse.
11:18: For first of all, when ye come together in the church, I hear that there be divisions among you; and I partly believe it.
 there must be also heresies among you, that they which are approved may be made manifest among you.
11:20: When ye come together therefore into one place, this is not to eat the Lord's supper.
11:21: For in eating every one taketh before other his own supper: and one is hungry, and another is drunken.
11:22: What? have ye not houses to eat and to drink in? or despise ye the church of God, and shame them that have not? What shall I say to you? shall I praise you in this? I praise you not.
11:23: For I have receivedM
 of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, That the Lord Jesus the same night in which he was betrayed took bread:
11:24: And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me.
11:25: After the same manner also he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.
11:26: For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew thM
e Lord's death till he come.
11:27: Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.
11:28: But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup.
11:29: For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body.
11:30: For this cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep.
11:31: For if we would judge ourselves, we should notM
11:32: But when we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world.
11:33: Wherefore, my brethren, when ye come together to eat, tarry one for another.
11:34: And if any man hunger, let him eat at home; that ye come not together unto condemnation. And the rest will I set in order when I come.
12:1: Now concerning spiritual gifts, brethren, I would not have you ignorant.
12:2: Ye know that ye were Gentiles, carried away unto these dumb idols, even as yM
12:3: Wherefore I give you to understand, that no man speaking by the Spirit of God calleth Jesus accursed: and that no man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.
12:4: Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit.
12:5: And there are differences of administrations, but the same Lord.
12:6: And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all.
12:7: But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal.
is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit;
12:9: To another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit;
12:10: To another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues; to another the interpretation of tongues:
12:11: But all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will.
12:12: For as the body is one, and hath many mM
embers, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ.
12:13: For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, whether we be bond or free; and have been all made to drink into one Spirit.
12:14: For the body is not one member, but many.
12:15: If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?
12:16: And if the ear shall say, Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body; is it therefore noM
12:17: If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling?
12:18: But now hath God set the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased him.
12:19: And if they were all one member, where were the body?
12:20: But now are they many members, yet but one body.
12:21: And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of you.
12:22: Nay, much more those members of the body, which M
seem to be more feeble, are necessary:
12:23: And those members of the body, which we think to be less honourable, upon these we bestow more abundant honour; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness.
12:24: For our comely parts have no need: but God hath tempered the body together, having given more abundant honour to that part which lacked:
12:25: That there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for another.
12:26: And whether one member suffer, all the memM
bers suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.
12:27: Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular.
12:28: And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after that miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diversities of tongues.
12:29: Are all apostles? are all prophets? are all teachers? are all workers of miracles?
12:30: Have all the gifts of healing? do all speak with tongues? do all interpret?
ovet earnestly the best gifts: and yet shew I unto you a more excellent way.
13:1: Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
13:2: And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
13:3: And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and hM
ave not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
13:4: Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
13:5: Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
13:6: Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
13:7: Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
13:8: Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall M
cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
13:9: For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
13:10: But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
13:11: When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
13:12: For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13:13: And now abideth faith, hopM
e, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
14:1: Follow after charity, and desire spiritual gifts, but rather that ye may prophesy.
14:2: For he that speaketh in an unknown tongue speaketh not unto men, but unto God: for no man understandeth him; howbeit in the spirit he speaketh mysteries.
14:3: But he that prophesieth speaketh unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort.
14:4: He that speaketh in an unknown tongue edifieth himself; but he that prophesieth edifieth the chuM
14:5: I would that ye all spake with tongues, but rather that ye prophesied: for greater is he that prophesieth than he that speaketh with tongues, except he interpret, that the church may receive edifying.
14:6: Now, brethren, if I come unto you speaking with tongues, what shall I profit you, except I shall speak to you either by revelation, or by knowledge, or by prophesying, or by doctrine?
14:7: And even things without life giving sound, whether pipe or harp, except they give a distinction in the sounds, hM
ow shall it be known what is piped or harped?
14:8: For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle?
14:9: So likewise ye, except ye utter by the tongue words easy to be understood, how shall it be known what is spoken? for ye shall speak into the air.
14:10: There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification.
14:11: Therefore if I know not the meaning of the voice, I shall be unto him that speaketh a barbarian, and he that speakM
eth shall be a barbarian unto me.
14:12: Even so ye, forasmuch as ye are zealous of spiritual gifts, seek that ye may excel to the edifying of the church.
14:13: Wherefore let him that speaketh in an unknown tongue pray that he may interpret.
14:14: For if I pray in an unknown tongue, my spirit prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful.
14:15: What is it then? I will pray with the spirit, and I will pray with the understanding also: I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also.
Else when thou shalt bless with the spirit, how shall he that occupieth the room of the unlearned say Amen at thy giving of thanks, seeing he understandeth not what thou sayest?
14:17: For thou verily givest thanks well, but the other is not edified.
14:18: I thank my God, I speak with tongues more than ye all:
14:19: Yet in the church I had rather speak five words with my understanding, that by my voice I might teach others also, than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue.
14:20: Brethren, be not children in undM
erstanding: howbeit in malice be ye children, but in understanding be men.
14:21: In the law it is written, With men of other tongues and other lips will I speak unto this people; and yet for all that will they not hear me, saith the Lord.
14:22: Wherefore tongues are for a sign, not to them that believe, but to them that believe not: but prophesying serveth not for them that believe not, but for them which believe.
14:23: If therefore the whole church be come together into one place, and all speak with tongues, anM
d there come in those that are unlearned, or unbelievers, will they not say that ye are mad?
14:24: But if all prophesy, and there come in one that believeth not, or one unlearned, he is convinced of all, he is judged of all:
14:25: And thus are the secrets of his heart made manifest; and so falling down on his face he will worship God, and report that God is in you of a truth.
14:26: How is it then, brethren? when ye come together, every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hM
ath an interpretation. Let all things be done unto edifying.
14:27: If any man speak in an unknown tongue, let it be by two, or at the most by three, and that by course; and let one interpret.
14:28: But if there be no interpreter, let him keep silence in the church; and let him speak to himself, and to God.
14:29: Let the prophets speak two or three, and let the other judge.
14:30: If any thing be revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace.
14:31: For ye may all prophesy one by one, that allM
 may learn, and all may be comforted.
14:32: And the spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets.
14:33: For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all churches of the saints.
14:34: Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience, as also saith the law.
14:35: And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their husbands at home: for it is a shame for women to speak in the church.
14:36: What? came the woM
rd of God out from you? or came it unto you only?
14:37: If any man think himself to be a prophet, or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things that I write unto you are the commandments of the Lord.
14:38: But if any man be ignorant, let him be ignorant.
14:39: Wherefore, brethren, covet to prophesy, and forbid not to speak with tongues.
14:40: Let all things be done decently and in order.
15:1: Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have receiveM
d, and wherein ye stand;
15:2: By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain.
15:3: For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures;
15:4: And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures:
15:5: And that he was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve:
15:6: After that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater paM
rt remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep.
15:7: After that, he was seen of James; then of all the apostles.
15:8: And last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time.
15:9: For I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.
15:10: But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was wiM
15:11: Therefore whether it were I or they, so we preach, and so ye believed.
15:12: Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead?
15:13: But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen:
15:14: And if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.
15:15: Yea, and we are found false witnesses of God; because we have testified of God that he raised up Christ: whom he raised not up, if M
so be that the dead rise not.
15:16: For if the dead rise not, then is not Christ raised:
15:17: And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins.
15:18: Then they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished.
15:19: If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.
15:20: But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of them that slept.
15:21: For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead.
Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.
15:23: But every man in his own order: Christ the firstfruits; afterward they that are Christ's at his coming.
15:24: Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule and all authority and power.
15:25: For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet.
15:26: The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
15:27: For he hath put all things under his feet. But when he M
saith all things are put under him, it is manifest that he is excepted, which did put all things under him.
15:28: And when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put all things under him, that God may be all in all.
15:29: Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not at all? why are they then baptized for the dead?
15:30: And why stand we in jeopardy every hour?
15:31: I protest by your rejoicing which I have in Christ Jesus oM
ur Lord, I die daily.
15:32: If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what advantageth it me, if the dead rise not? let us eat and drink; for to morrow we die.
15:33: Be not deceived: evil communications corrupt good manners.
15:34: Awake to righteousness, and sin not; for some have not the knowledge of God: I speak this to your shame.
15:35: But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come?
15:36: Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except iM
15:37: And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain:
15:38: But God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body.
15:39: All flesh is not the same flesh: but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and another of birds.
15:40: There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is aM
15:41: There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.
15:42: So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption:
15:43: It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power:
15:44: It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.
15:45: And so it is written, The M
first man Adam was made a living soul; the last Adam was made a quickening spirit.
15:46: Howbeit that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; and afterward that which is spiritual.
15:47: The first man is of the earth, earthy: the second man is the Lord from heaven.
15:48: As is the earthy, such are they also that are earthy: and as is the heavenly, such are they also that are heavenly.
15:49: And as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.
w this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption.
15:51: Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed,
15:52: In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.
15:53: For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.
15:54: So when this corruptible shall have pM
ut on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.
15:55: O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
15:56: The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.
15:57: But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
15:58: Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that yM
our labour is not in vain in the Lord.
16:1: Now concerning the collection for the saints, as I have given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye.
16:2: Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there be no gatherings when I come.
16:3: And when I come, whomsoever ye shall approve by your letters, them will I send to bring your liberality unto Jerusalem.
16:4: And if it be meet that I go also, they shall go with me.
 come unto you, when I shall pass through Macedonia: for I do pass through Macedonia.
16:6: And it may be that I will abide, yea, and winter with you, that ye may bring me on my journey whithersoever I go.
16:7: For I will not see you now by the way; but I trust to tarry a while with you, if the Lord permit.
16:8: But I will tarry at Ephesus until Pentecost.
16:9: For a great door and effectual is opened unto me, and there are many adversaries.
16:10: Now if Timotheus come, see that he may be with you without fear:M
 for he worketh the work of the Lord, as I also do.
16:11: Let no man therefore despise him: but conduct him forth in peace, that he may come unto me: for I look for him with the brethren.
16:12: As touching our brother Apollos, I greatly desired him to come unto you with the brethren: but his will was not at all to come at this time; but he will come when he shall have convenient time.
16:13: Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong.
16:14: Let all your things be done with charity.
beseech you, brethren, (ye know the house of Stephanas, that it is the firstfruits of Achaia, and that they have addicted themselves to the ministry of the saints,)
16:16: That ye submit yourselves unto such, and to every one that helpeth with us, and laboureth.
16:17: I am glad of the coming of Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus: for that which was lacking on your part they have supplied.
16:18: For they have refreshed my spirit and yours: therefore acknowledge ye them that are such.
16:19: The churches of AsiaM
 salute you. Aquila and Priscilla salute you much in the Lord, with the church that is in their house.
16:20: All the brethren greet you. Greet ye one another with an holy kiss.
16:21: The salutation of me Paul with mine own hand.
16:22: If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha.
16:23: The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.
16:24: My love be with you all in Christ Jesus. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: Paul, and Silvanus, and Timotheus, unto the church of the Thessalonians which is in God the Father and in the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.
1:2: We give thanks to God always for you all, making mention of you in our prayers;
1:3: Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sigM
ht of God and our Father;
1:4: Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God.
1:5: For our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance; as ye know what manner of men we were among you for your sake.
1:6: And ye became followers of us, and of the Lord, having received the word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost:
1:7: So that ye were ensamples to all that believe in Macedonia and Achaia.
1:8: For from you sounded out the word of the Lord not onlM
y in Macedonia and Achaia, but also in every place your faith to God-ward is spread abroad; so that we need not to speak any thing.
1:9: For they themselves shew of us what manner of entering in we had unto you, and how ye turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God;
1:10: And to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come.
2:1: For yourselves, brethren, know our entrance in unto you, that it was not in vain:
n after that we had suffered before, and were shamefully entreated, as ye know, at Philippi, we were bold in our God to speak unto you the gospel of God with much contention.
2:3: For our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile:
2:4: But as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts.
2:5: For neither at any time used we flattering words, as ye know, nor a cloke of covetousness; God is witness:
 men sought we glory, neither of you, nor yet of others, when we might have been burdensome, as the apostles of Christ.
2:7: But we were gentle among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her children:
2:8: So being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.
2:9: For ye remember, brethren, our labour and travail: for labouring night and day, because we would not be chargeable unto any of you, we preached untoM
 you the gospel of God.
2:10: Ye are witnesses, and God also, how holily and justly and unblameably we behaved ourselves among you that believe:
2:11: As ye know how we exhorted and comforted and charged every one of you, as a father doth his children,
2:12: That ye would walk worthy of God, who hath called you unto his kingdom and glory.
2:13: For this cause also thank we God without ceasing, because, when ye received the word of God which ye heard of us, ye received it not as the word of men, but as it is in trutM
h, the word of God, which effectually worketh also in you that believe.
2:14: For ye, brethren, became followers of the churches of God which in Judaea are in Christ Jesus: for ye also have suffered like things of your own countrymen, even as they have of the Jews:
2:15: Who both killed the Lord Jesus, and their own prophets, and have persecuted us; and they please not God, and are contrary to all men:
2:16: Forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles that they might be saved, to fill up their sins alway: for the wrath M
is come upon them to the uttermost.
2:17: But we, brethren, being taken from you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavoured the more abundantly to see your face with great desire.
2:18: Wherefore we would have come unto you, even I Paul, once and again; but Satan hindered us.
2:19: For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming?
2:20: For ye are our glory and joy.
3:1: Wherefore when we could no longer forbear, we tM
hought it good to be left at Athens alone;
3:2: And sent Timotheus, our brother, and minister of God, and our fellowlabourer in the gospel of Christ, to establish you, and to comfort you concerning your faith:
3:3: That no man should be moved by these afflictions: for yourselves know that we are appointed thereunto.
3:4: For verily, when we were with you, we told you before that we should suffer tribulation; even as it came to pass, and ye know.
3:5: For this cause, when I could no longer forbear, I sent to know yoM
ur faith, lest by some means the tempter have tempted you, and our labour be in vain.
3:6: But now when Timotheus came from you unto us, and brought us good tidings of your faith and charity, and that ye have good remembrance of us always, desiring greatly to see us, as we also to see you:
3:7: Therefore, brethren, we were comforted over you in all our affliction and distress by your faith:
3:8: For now we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord.
3:9: For what thanks can we render to God again for you, for all the joy wM
herewith we joy for your sakes before our God;
3:10: Night and day praying exceedingly that we might see your face, and might perfect that which is lacking in your faith?
3:11: Now God himself and our Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, direct our way unto you.
3:12: And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men, even as we do toward you:
3:13: To the end he may stablish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus ChriM
st with all his saints.
4:1: Furthermore then we beseech you, brethren, and exhort you by the Lord Jesus, that as ye have received of us how ye ought to walk and to please God, so ye would abound more and more.
4:2: For ye know what commandments we gave you by the Lord Jesus.
4:3: For this is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication:
4:4: That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honour;
4:5: Not in the lust of concupiscencM
e, even as the Gentiles which know not God:
4:6: That no man go beyond and defraud his brother in any matter: because that the Lord is the avenger of all such, as we also have forewarned you and testified.
4:7: For God hath not called us unto uncleanness, but unto holiness.
4:8: He therefore that despiseth, despiseth not man, but God, who hath also given unto us his holy Spirit.
4:9: But as touching brotherly love ye need not that I write unto you: for ye yourselves are taught of God to love one another.
indeed ye do it toward all the brethren which are in all Macedonia: but we beseech you, brethren, that ye increase more and more;
4:11: And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you;
4:12: That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and that ye may have lack of nothing.
4:13: But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.
4:14: For if we believe M
that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.
4:15: For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep.
4:16: For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
4:17: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, toM
 meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.
4:18: Wherefore comfort one another with these words.
5:1: But of the times and the seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you.
5:2: For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night.
5:3: For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape.
5:4: But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that thatM
 day should overtake you as a thief.
5:5: Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day: we are not of the night, nor of darkness.
5:6: Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.
5:7: For they that sleep sleep in the night; and they that be drunken are drunken in the night.
5:8: But let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love; and for an helmet, the hope of salvation.
5:9: For God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvaM
tion by our Lord Jesus Christ,
5:10: Who died for us, that, whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him.
5:11: Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as also ye do.
5:12: And we beseech you, brethren, to know them which labour among you, and are over you in the Lord, and admonish you;
5:13: And to esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake. And be at peace among yourselves.
5:14: Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feebleminded, sM
upport the weak, be patient toward all men.
5:15: See that none render evil for evil unto any man; but ever follow that which is good, both among yourselves, and to all men.
5:16: Rejoice evermore.
5:17: Pray without ceasing.
5:18: In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.
5:19: Quench not the Spirit.
5:20: Despise not prophesyings.
5:21: Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.
5:22: Abstain from all appearance of evil.
5:23: And the very God of peace sanctify yM
ou wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
5:24: Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it.
5:25: Brethren, pray for us.
5:26: Greet all the brethren with an holy kiss.
5:27: I charge you by the Lord that this epistle be read unto all the holy brethren.
5:28: The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
1:1: Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, unto the church of God which is at Corinth, with all the saints which are in all Achaia:
1:2: Grace be to you and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
1:3: Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort;
1:4: Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we mayM
 be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.
1:5: For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ.
1:6: And whether we be afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effectual in the enduring of the same sufferings which we also suffer: or whether we be comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation.
1:7: And our hope of you is stedfast, knowing, that as ye are partakers of the sufferinM
gs, so shall ye be also of the consolation.
1:8: For we would not, brethren, have you ignorant of our trouble which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed out of measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life:
1:9: But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead:
1:10: Who delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver: in whom we trust that he will yet deliver us;
1:11: Ye also helping together by prayer for us, that M
for the gift bestowed upon us by the means of many persons thanks may be given by many on our behalf.
1:12: For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world, and more abundantly to you-ward.
1:13: For we write none other things unto you, than what ye read or acknowledge; and I trust ye shall acknowledge even to the end;
1:14: As also ye have acknowledged us in part, that we M
are your rejoicing, even as ye also are ours in the day of the Lord Jesus.
1:15: And in this confidence I was minded to come unto you before, that ye might have a second benefit;
1:16: And to pass by you into Macedonia, and to come again out of Macedonia unto you, and of you to be brought on my way toward Judaea.
1:17: When I therefore was thus minded, did I use lightness? or the things that I purpose, do I purpose according to the flesh, that with me there should be yea yea, and nay nay?
1:18: But as God is true, M
our word toward you was not yea and nay.
1:19: For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by us, even by me and Silvanus and Timotheus, was not yea and nay, but in him was yea.
1:20: For all the promises of God in him are yea, and in him Amen, unto the glory of God by us.
1:21: Now he which stablisheth us with you in Christ, and hath anointed us, is God;
1:22: Who hath also sealed us, and given the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts.
1:23: Moreover I call God for a record upon my soul, that to spM
are you I came not as yet unto Corinth.
1:24: Not for that we have dominion over your faith, but are helpers of your joy: for by faith ye stand.
2:1: But I determined this with myself, that I would not come again to you in heaviness.
2:2: For if I make you sorry, who is he then that maketh me glad, but the same which is made sorry by me?
2:3: And I wrote this same unto you, lest, when I came, I should have sorrow from them of whom I ought to rejoice; having confidence in you all, that my joy is the joy oM
2:4: For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote unto you with many tears; not that ye should be grieved, but that ye might know the love which I have more abundantly unto you.
2:5: But if any have caused grief, he hath not grieved me, but in part: that I may not overcharge you all.
2:6: Sufficient to such a man is this punishment, which was inflicted of many.
2:7: So that contrariwise ye ought rather to forgive him, and comfort him, lest perhaps such a one should be swallowed up with overmucM
2:8: Wherefore I beseech you that ye would confirm your love toward him.
2:9: For to this end also did I write, that I might know the proof of you, whether ye be obedient in all things.
2:10: To whom ye forgive any thing, I forgive also: for if I forgave any thing, to whom I forgave it, for your sakes forgave I it in the person of Christ;
2:11: Lest Satan should get an advantage of us: for we are not ignorant of his devices.
2:12: Furthermore, when I came to Troas to preach Christ's gospel, and a door wasM
 opened unto me of the Lord,
2:13: I had no rest in my spirit, because I found not Titus my brother: but taking my leave of them, I went from thence into Macedonia.
2:14: Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.
2:15: For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish:
2:16: To the one we are the savour of death unto death; and to the other the savour of life unto life. And wM
ho is sufficient for these things?
2:17: For we are not as many, which corrupt the word of God: but as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God speak we in Christ.
3:1: Do we begin again to commend ourselves? or need we, as some others, epistles of commendation to you, or letters of commendation from you?
3:2: Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men:
3:3: Forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but witM
h the Spirit of the living God; not in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of the heart.
3:4: And such trust have we through Christ to God-ward:
3:5: Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God;
3:6: Who also hath made us able ministers of the new testament; not of the letter, but of the spirit: for the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life.
3:7: But if the ministration of death, written and engraven in stones, was glorious, so that the children oM
f Israel could not stedfastly behold the face of Moses for the glory of his countenance; which glory was to be done away:
3:8: How shall not the ministration of the spirit be rather glorious?
3:9: For if the ministration of condemnation be glory, much more doth the ministration of righteousness exceed in glory.
3:10: For even that which was made glorious had no glory in this respect, by reason of the glory that excelleth.
3:11: For if that which is done away was glorious, much more that which remaineth is glorious.M
3:12: Seeing then that we have such hope, we use great plainness of speech:
3:13: And not as Moses, which put a vail over his face, that the children of Israel could not stedfastly look to the end of that which is abolished:
3:14: But their minds were blinded: for until this day remaineth the same vail untaken away in the reading of the old testament; which vail is done away in Christ.
3:15: But even unto this day, when Moses is read, the vail is upon their heart.
3:16: Nevertheless when it shall turn to the Lord,M
 the vail shall be taken away.
3:17: Now the Lord is that Spirit: and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.
3:18: But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.
4:1: Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;
4:2: But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by mM
anifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.
4:3: But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:
4:4: In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
4:5: For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.
4:6: For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shinM
ed in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
4:7: But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
4:8: We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;
4:9: Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;
4:10: Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.
which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.
4:12: So then death worketh in us, but life in you.
4:13: We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I believed, and therefore have I spoken; we also believe, and therefore speak;
4:14: Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.
4:15: For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might M
through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.
4:16: For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.
4:17: For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;
4:18: While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.
5:1: For we know that if ouM
r earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
5:2: For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven:
5:3: If so be that being clothed we shall not be found naked.
5:4: For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life.
5:5: Now he that hath wrought us for the selfsame thing isM
 God, who also hath given unto us the earnest of the Spirit.
5:6: Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord:
5:7: (For we walk by faith, not by sight:)
5:8: We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.
5:9: Wherefore we labour, that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted of him.
5:10: For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the thingsM
 done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.
5:11: Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men; but we are made manifest unto God; and I trust also are made manifest in your consciences.
5:12: For we commend not ourselves again unto you, but give you occasion to glory on our behalf, that ye may have somewhat to answer them which glory in appearance, and not in heart.
5:13: For whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be sober, it is for your cause.
:14: For the love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead:
5:15: And that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again.
5:16: Wherefore henceforth know we no man after the flesh: yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him no more.
5:17: Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things M
5:18: And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation;
5:19: To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation.
5:20: Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.
5:21: For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sM
in; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.
6:1: We then, as workers together with him, beseech you also that ye receive not the grace of God in vain.
6:2: (For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succoured thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.)
6:3: Giving no offence in any thing, that the ministry be not blamed:
6:4: But in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in affM
lictions, in necessities, in distresses,
6:5: In stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in watchings, in fastings;
6:6: By pureness, by knowledge, by longsuffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned,
6:7: By the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness on the right hand and on the left,
6:8: By honour and dishonour, by evil report and good report: as deceivers, and yet true;
6:9: As unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and, behold, we live; as chastened, and nM
6:10: As sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.
6:11: O ye Corinthians, our mouth is open unto you, our heart is enlarged.
6:12: Ye are not straitened in us, but ye are straitened in your own bowels.
6:13: Now for a recompence in the same, (I speak as unto my children,) be ye also enlarged.
6:14: Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hathM
 light with darkness?
6:15: And what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel?
6:16: And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.
6:17: Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you,
6:18: And will be a Father unto you, and ye shallM
 be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.
7:1: Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.
7:2: Receive us; we have wronged no man, we have corrupted no man, we have defrauded no man.
7:3: I speak not this to condemn you: for I have said before, that ye are in our hearts to die and live with you.
7:4: Great is my boldness of speech toward you, great is my glorying of you: I am fillM
ed with comfort, I am exceeding joyful in all our tribulation.
7:5: For, when we were come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest, but we were troubled on every side; without were fightings, within were fears.
7:6: Nevertheless God, that comforteth those that are cast down, comforted us by the coming of Titus;
7:7: And not by his coming only, but by the consolation wherewith he was comforted in you, when he told us your earnest desire, your mourning, your fervent mind toward me; so that I rejoiced the more.
 though I made you sorry with a letter, I do not repent, though I did repent: for I perceive that the same epistle hath made you sorry, though it were but for a season.
7:9: Now I rejoice, not that ye were made sorry, but that ye sorrowed to repentance: for ye were made sorry after a godly manner, that ye might receive damage by us in nothing.
7:10: For godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of: but the sorrow of the world worketh death.
7:11: For behold this selfsame thing, that ye sorroweM
d after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea, what revenge! In all things ye have approved yourselves to be clear in this matter.
7:12: Wherefore, though I wrote unto you, I did it not for his cause that had done the wrong, nor for his cause that suffered wrong, but that our care for you in the sight of God might appear unto you.
7:13: Therefore we were comforted in your comfort: yea,M
 and exceedingly the more joyed we for the joy of Titus, because his spirit was refreshed by you all.
7:14: For if I have boasted any thing to him of you, I am not ashamed; but as we spake all things to you in truth, even so our boasting, which I made before Titus, is found a truth.
7:15: And his inward affection is more abundant toward you, whilst he remembereth the obedience of you all, how with fear and trembling ye received him.
7:16: I rejoice therefore that I have confidence in you in all things.
:1: Moreover, brethren, we do you to wit of the grace of God bestowed on the churches of Macedonia;
8:2: How that in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality.
8:3: For to their power, I bear record, yea, and beyond their power they were willing of themselves;
8:4: Praying us with much intreaty that we would receive the gift, and take upon us the fellowship of the ministering to the saints.
8:5: And this they did, not as we hoped, but M
first gave their own selves to the Lord, and unto us by the will of God.
8:6: Insomuch that we desired Titus, that as he had begun, so he would also finish in you the same grace also.
8:7: Therefore, as ye abound in every thing, in faith, and utterance, and knowledge, and in all diligence, and in your love to us, see that ye abound in this grace also.
8:8: I speak not by commandment, but by occasion of the forwardness of others, and to prove the sincerity of your love.
8:9: For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus CM
hrist, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.
8:10: And herein I give my advice: for this is expedient for you, who have begun before, not only to do, but also to be forward a year ago.
8:11: Now therefore perform the doing of it; that as there was a readiness to will, so there may be a performance also out of that which ye have.
8:12: For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath M
8:13: For I mean not that other men be eased, and ye burdened:
8:14: But by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also may be a supply for your want: that there may be equality:
8:15: As it is written, He that had gathered much had nothing over; and he that had gathered little had no lack.
8:16: But thanks be to God, which put the same earnest care into the heart of Titus for you.
8:17: For indeed he accepted the exhortation; but being more forwaM
rd, of his own accord he went unto you.
8:18: And we have sent with him the brother, whose praise is in the gospel throughout all the churches;
8:19: And not that only, but who was also chosen of the churches to travel with us with this grace, which is administered by us to the glory of the same Lord, and declaration of your ready mind:
8:20: Avoiding this, that no man should blame us in this abundance which is administered by us:
8:21: Providing for honest things, not only in the sight of the Lord, but also in theM
8:22: And we have sent with them our brother, whom we have oftentimes proved diligent in many things, but now much more diligent, upon the great confidence which I have in you.
8:23: Whether any do enquire of Titus, he is my partner and fellowhelper concerning you: or our brethren be enquired of, they are the messengers of the churches, and the glory of Christ.
8:24: Wherefore shew ye to them, and before the churches, the proof of your love, and of our boasting on your behalf.
touching the ministering to the saints, it is superfluous for me to write to you:
9:2: For I know the forwardness of your mind, for which I boast of you to them of Macedonia, that Achaia was ready a year ago; and your zeal hath provoked very many.
9:3: Yet have I sent the brethren, lest our boasting of you should be in vain in this behalf; that, as I said, ye may be ready:
9:4: Lest haply if they of Macedonia come with me, and find you unprepared, we (that we say not, ye) should be ashamed in this same confident boM
9:5: Therefore I thought it necessary to exhort the brethren, that they would go before unto you, and make up beforehand your bounty, whereof ye had notice before, that the same might be ready, as a matter of bounty, and not as of covetousness.
9:6: But this I say, He which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully.
9:7: Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a cheerful gM
9:8: And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work:
9:9: (As it is written, He hath dispersed abroad; he hath given to the poor: his righteousness remaineth for ever.
9:10: Now he that ministereth seed to the sower both minister bread for your food, and multiply your seed sown, and increase the fruits of your righteousness;)
9:11: Being enriched in every thing to all bountifulness, which causeth through us thanksgiving M
9:12: For the administration of this service not only supplieth the want of the saints, but is abundant also by many thanksgivings unto God;
9:13: Whiles by the experiment of this ministration they glorify God for your professed subjection unto the gospel of Christ, and for your liberal distribution unto them, and unto all men;
9:14: And by their prayer for you, which long after you for the exceeding grace of God in you.
9:15: Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.
10:1: Now I Paul myself M
beseech you by the meekness and gentleness of Christ, who in presence am base among you, but being absent am bold toward you:
10:2: But I beseech you, that I may not be bold when I am present with that confidence, wherewith I think to be bold against some, which think of us as if we walked according to the flesh.
10:3: For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh:
10:4: (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;)
10:5: Casting down iM
maginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;
10:6: And having in a readiness to revenge all disobedience, when your obedience is fulfilled.
10:7: Do ye look on things after the outward appearance? If any man trust to himself that he is Christ's, let him of himself think this again, that, as he is Christ's, even so are we Christ's.
10:8: For though I should boast somewhat more of our authority, which the LorM
d hath given us for edification, and not for your destruction, I should not be ashamed:
10:9: That I may not seem as if I would terrify you by letters.
10:10: For his letters, say they, are weighty and powerful; but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech contemptible.
10:11: Let such an one think this, that, such as we are in word by letters when we are absent, such will we be also in deed when we are present.
10:12: For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves with some that commend themM
selves: but they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.
10:13: But we will not boast of things without our measure, but according to the measure of the rule which God hath distributed to us, a measure to reach even unto you.
10:14: For we stretch not ourselves beyond our measure, as though we reached not unto you: for we are come as far as to you also in preaching the gospel of Christ:
10:15: Not boasting of things without our measure, that is, of other men's laM
bours; but having hope, when your faith is increased, that we shall be enlarged by you according to our rule abundantly,
10:16: To preach the gospel in the regions beyond you, and not to boast in another man's line of things made ready to our hand.
10:17: But he that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.
10:18: For not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth.
11:1: Would to God ye could bear with me a little in my folly: and indeed bear with me.
11:2: For I am jealous over yoM
u with godly jealousy: for I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ.
11:3: But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.
11:4: For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him.
11:5: For I suppose I was nM
ot a whit behind the very chiefest apostles.
11:6: But though I be rude in speech, yet not in knowledge; but we have been throughly made manifest among you in all things.
11:7: Have I committed an offence in abasing myself that ye might be exalted, because I have preached to you the gospel of God freely?
11:8: I robbed other churches, taking wages of them, to do you service.
11:9: And when I was present with you, and wanted, I was chargeable to no man: for that which was lacking to me the brethren which came from MM
acedonia supplied: and in all things I have kept myself from being burdensome unto you, and so will I keep myself.
11:10: As the truth of Christ is in me, no man shall stop me of this boasting in the regions of Achaia.
11:11: Wherefore? because I love you not? God knoweth.
11:12: But what I do, that I will do, that I may cut off occasion from them which desire occasion; that wherein they glory, they may be found even as we.
11:13: For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the aposM
11:14: And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.
11:15: Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works.
11:16: I say again, Let no man think me a fool; if otherwise, yet as a fool receive me, that I may boast myself a little.
11:17: That which I speak, I speak it not after the Lord, but as it were foolishly, in this confidence of boasting.
11:18: Seeing that many glory afM
ter the flesh, I will glory also.
11:19: For ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise.
11:20: For ye suffer, if a man bring you into bondage, if a man devour you, if a man take of you, if a man exalt himself, if a man smite you on the face.
11:21: I speak as concerning reproach, as though we had been weak. Howbeit whereinsoever any is bold, (I speak foolishly,) I am bold also.
11:22: Are they Hebrews? so am I. Are they Israelites? so am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? so am I.
11:23: Are they ministerM
s of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more; in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft.
11:24: Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one.
11:25: Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep;
11:26: In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in peM
rils in the sea, in perils among false brethren;
11:27: In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.
11:28: Beside those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches.
11:29: Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not?
11:30: If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things which concern mine infirmities.
11:31: The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which is blessed for evermoreM
, knoweth that I lie not.
11:32: In Damascus the governor under Aretas the king kept the city of the Damascenes with a garrison, desirous to apprehend me:
11:33: And through a window in a basket was I let down by the wall, and escaped his hands.
12:1: It is not expedient for me doubtless to glory. I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord.
12:2: I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago, (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;) such an M
one caught up to the third heaven.
12:3: And I knew such a man, (whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;)
12:4: How that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter.
12:5: Of such an one will I glory: yet of myself I will not glory, but in mine infirmities.
12:6: For though I would desire to glory, I shall not be a fool; for I will say the truth: but now I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth me to M
be, or that he heareth of me.
12:7: And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.
12:8: For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.
12:9: And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may restM
12:10: Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
12:11: I am become a fool in glorying; ye have compelled me: for I ought to have been commended of you: for in nothing am I behind the very chiefest apostles, though I be nothing.
12:12: Truly the signs of an apostle were wrought among you in all patience, in signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds.
12:13: For what is it wherein ye were inferiM
or to other churches, except it be that I myself was not burdensome to you? forgive me this wrong.
12:14: Behold, the third time I am ready to come to you; and I will not be burdensome to you: for I seek not yours, but you: for the children ought not to lay up for the parents, but the parents for the children.
12:15: And I will very gladly spend and be spent for you; though the more abundantly I love you, the less I be loved.
12:16: But be it so, I did not burden you: nevertheless, being crafty, I caught you with gM
12:17: Did I make a gain of you by any of them whom I sent unto you?
12:18: I desired Titus, and with him I sent a brother. Did Titus make a gain of you? walked we not in the same spirit? walked we not in the same steps?
12:19: Again, think ye that we excuse ourselves unto you? we speak before God in Christ: but we do all things, dearly beloved, for your edifying.
12:20: For I fear, lest, when I come, I shall not find you such as I would, and that I shall be found unto you such as ye would not: lest there be M
debates, envyings, wraths, strifes, backbitings, whisperings, swellings, tumults:
12:21: And lest, when I come again, my God will humble me among you, and that I shall bewail many which have sinned already, and have not repented of the uncleanness and fornication and lasciviousness which they have committed.
13:1: This is the third time I am coming to you. In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.
13:2: I told you before, and foretell you, as if I were present, the second tM
ime; and being absent now I write to them which heretofore have sinned, and to all other, that, if I come again, I will not spare:
13:3: Since ye seek a proof of Christ speaking in me, which to you-ward is not weak, but is mighty in you.
13:4: For though he was crucified through weakness, yet he liveth by the power of God. For we also are weak in him, but we shall live with him by the power of God toward you.
13:5: Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, hM
ow that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates?
13:6: But I trust that ye shall know that we are not reprobates.
13:7: Now I pray to God that ye do no evil; not that we should appear approved, but that ye should do that which is honest, though we be as reprobates.
13:8: For we can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth.
13:9: For we are glad, when we are weak, and ye are strong: and this also we wish, even your perfection.
13:10: Therefore I write these things being absent, lest being present I shM
ould use sharpness, according to the power which the Lord hath given me to edification, and not to destruction.
13:11: Finally, brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.
13:12: Greet one another with an holy kiss.
13:13: All the saints salute you.
13:14: The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all. Amen.h!
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AUTHORIZED KING JAMES VERSION
SECOND THESSALONIANS
1:1: Paul, and Silvanus, and Timotheus, unto the church of the Thessalonians in God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ:
1:2: Grace unto you, and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
1:3: We are bound to thank God always for you, brethren, as it is meet, because that your faith groweth exceedingly, and the charity of every one of you all toward each other aboundeth;
1:4: So that we ourselves glory in you M
in the churches of God for your patience and faith in all your persecutions and tribulations that ye endure:
1:5: Which is a manifest token of the righteous judgment of God, that ye may be counted worthy of the kingdom of God, for which ye also suffer:
1:6: Seeing it is a righteous thing with God to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you;
1:7: And to you who are troubled rest with us, when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels,
1:8: In flaming fire taking vengeance on them thaM
t know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ:
1:9: Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power;
1:10: When he shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be admired in all them that believe (because our testimony among you was believed) in that day.
1:11: Wherefore also we pray always for you, that our God would count you worthy of this calling, and fulfil all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith M
1:12: That the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and ye in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.
2:1: Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto him,
2:2: That ye be not soon shaken in mind, or be troubled, neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter as from us, as that the day of Christ is at hand.
2:3: Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except thereM
 come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition;
2:4: Who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, shewing himself that he is God.
2:5: Remember ye not, that, when I was yet with you, I told you these things?
2:6: And now ye know what withholdeth that he might be revealed in his time.
2:7: For the mystery of iniquity doth already work: only he who now letteth will let, until he be taken out ofM
2:8: And then shall that Wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming:
2:9: Even him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders,
2:10: And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved.
2:11: And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie:
t they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.
2:13: But we are bound to give thanks alway to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth:
2:14: Whereunto he called you by our gospel, to the obtaining of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.
2:15: Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word, or our eM
2:16: Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace,
2:17: Comfort your hearts, and stablish you in every good word and work.
3:1: Finally, brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified, even as it is with you:
3:2: And that we may be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men: for all men have not faith.
3:3: But the Lord is faithful, who shall stablM
ish you, and keep you from evil.
3:4: And we have confidence in the Lord touching you, that ye both do and will do the things which we command you.
3:5: And the Lord direct your hearts into the love of God, and into the patient waiting for Christ.
3:6: Now we command you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye withdraw yourselves from every brother that walketh disorderly, and not after the tradition which he received of us.
3:7: For yourselves know how ye ought to follow us: for we behaved not ourM
selves disorderly among you;
3:8: Neither did we eat any man's bread for nought; but wrought with labour and travail night and day, that we might not be chargeable to any of you:
3:9: Not because we have not power, but to make ourselves an ensample unto you to follow us.
3:10: For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat.
3:11: For we hear that there are some which walk among you disorderly, working not at all, but are busybodies.
3:12: Now them that are sM
uch we command and exhort by our Lord Jesus Christ, that with quietness they work, and eat their own bread.
3:13: But ye, brethren, be not weary in well doing.
3:14: And if any man obey not our word by this epistle, note that man, and have no company with him, that he may be ashamed.
3:15: Yet count him not as an enemy, but admonish him as a brother.
3:16: Now the Lord of peace himself give you peace always by all means. The Lord be with you all.
3:17: The salutation of Paul with mine own hand, which is the token iL\n every epistle: so I write.
3:18: The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.h!
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Authorized King James Version
52:13: Behold, my servant shall deal prudently, he shall be exalted and extolled, and be very high.
52:14: As many were astonied at thee; his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men:
52:15: So shall he sprinkle many nations; the kings shall shut their mouths at him: for that which had not been told them shall they see; and that which they had not heard shall they consider.
elieved our report?  and to whom is the arm of the LORD revealed?
53:2: For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
53:3: He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
53:4: Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem hM
im stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
53:5: But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.
53:6: All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
53:7: He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeM
53:8: He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation?  for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.
53:9: And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.
53:10: Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolonM
g his days, and the pleasure of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
53:11: He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.
53:12: Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH
by William Shakespeare
Scene I. An open Place.
Scene II. A Camp near Forres.
Scene IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
Scene V. Inverness. A Room in Macbeth
Scene VI. The same. Before the Castle.
Scene VII. The same. A Lobby in the Castle.
Scene I. Inverness. Court within the Castle.
Scene III. The same.
Scene IV. The same. Without the Castle.
Scene I. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
ene II. The same. Another Room in the Palace.
Scene III. The same. A Park or Lawn, with a gate leading to the Palace.
Scene IV. The same. A Room of state in the Palace.
Scene VI. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
Scene I. A dark Cave. In the middle, a Cauldron Boiling.
Scene II. Fife. A Room in Macduff
Scene III. England. Before the King
Scene I. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.
Scene II. The Country near Dunsinane.
Scene III. Dunsinane. A Room inM
Scene IV. Country near Dunsinane: a Wood in view.
Scene V. Dunsinane. Within the castle.
Scene VI. The same. A Plain before the Castle.
Scene VII. The same. Another part of the Plain.
Scene VIII. The same. Another part of the field.
DUNCAN, King of Scotland.
MACBETH, General in the King
BANQUO, General in the King
MACDUFF, Nobleman of Scotland.
LENNOX, Nobleman of Scotland.
ROSS, Nobleman of Scotland.
ITH, Nobleman of Scotland.
ANGUS, Nobleman of Scotland.
CAITHNESS, Nobleman of Scotland.
FLEANCE, Son to Banquo.
SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, General of the English Forces.
YOUNG SIWARD, his Son.
SEYTON, an Officer attending on Macbeth.
BOY, Son to Macduff.
Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth.
HECATE, and three Witches.
Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants and
The Ghost of Banquo and several other Apparitions.
SCENE: In the end of the Fourth Act, in England; through the rest of
the Play, in Scotland; and chiefly at Macbeth
SCENE I. An open Place.
 Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
That will be ere the set of sun.
There to meet with Macbeth.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
SCENE II. A Camp near Forres.
 Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, with
 Attendants, meeting a bleeding Captain.
What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
This is the sergeant
Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
Gainst my captivity.
Say to the King the knowledge of the broil
As thou didst leave it.
As two spent swimmers that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
(Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villainies of nature
Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And Fortune, on his damned M
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name),
Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish
d with bloody execution,
er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
d him from the nave to the chops,
d his head upon our battlements.
O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break,
So from that spring, whence comfort seem
Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valour arm
d these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,
d arms and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg
d with double cracks;
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
So well thy words become thee as thy wounds:
They smack of honour both.
Go, get him surgeons.
 [_Exit Captain, attended._]
 Enter Ross and Angus.
The worthy Thane of Ross.
e looks through his eyes! So should he look
That seems to speak things strange.
st thou, worthy thane?
From Fife, great King,
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
And fan our people cold.
Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor,
The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point, rebellious arm
Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us.
 king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men
Till he disbursed at Saint Colme
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.
What he hath lost, noM
ble Macbeth hath won.
 Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
Where hast thou been, sister?
s wife had chestnuts in her lap,
 the rump-fed ronyon cries.
s to Aleppo gone, master o
ll give thee a wind.
I myself have all the other,
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid.
n-nights nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot M
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
d as homeward he did come.
The Weird Sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about:
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine.
 Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
 day I have not seen.
d, and so wild in their attire,
That look not like the inhabitants o
Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips. You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
All hail, Macbeth! hM
ail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter!
Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace and great prediction
Of noble having and of royal hope,
That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not.
If you can look into the M
And say which grain will grow, and which will not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favours nor your hate.
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
Not so happy, yet much happier.
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more.
s death I know I am Thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
Stands not within the prospect of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting?
Speak, I charge you.
 [_Witches vanish._]
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they vanish
Into the air; and what seM
Melted as breath into the wind.
Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
Your children shall be kings.
And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
To the selfsame tune and words. Who
 Enter Ross and Angus.
The King hath happily receiv
The news of thy success, and when he reads
onal venture in the rebels
His wonders and his praises do contend
Which should be thine or his: silenc
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale
Came post with post; and everyone did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom
d them down before him.
To give thee from our royal master thanks;
ald thee into his sight,
And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane,
What, can the devil speak true?
The Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
Who was the Thane lives yet,
But under heavy judgement bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin
With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
dden help and vantage, or that with both
s wrack, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess
Have overthrown him.
[_Aside._] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind. [_To Ross and Angus._] Thanks for your pains.
[_To Banquo._] Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the Thane oM
And oftentimes to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray
In deepest consequence.
Cousins, a word, I pray you.
[_Aside._] Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.
I thank you, gentlemen.
[_Aside._] This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of CawdorM
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings.
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man
That function is smother
And nothing is but what is not.
Look, how our partner
[_Aside._] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me
ew honours come upon him,
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
But with the aid of use.
[_Aside._] Come what come may,
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Give me your favour. My dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
d where every day I turn
The leaf to read them.
Let us toward the King.
Think upon what hath chanc
d; and at more time,
Our free hearts each to other.
SCENE IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
 Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox and Attendants.
Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die, who did report,
That very frankly he confess
 pardon, and set forth
A deep repentance. Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow
twere a careless trifle.
s construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
 Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross and Angus.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me. Thou art so farM
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserv
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness
Is to receive our duties: and our duties
Are to your throne and state, children and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing everything
Safe toward your love and honM
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.
That hast no less deserv
d, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.
The harvest is your own.
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our estate upon
olm; whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not unaccompanied invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.
The rest is labour, which is not us
ll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.
[_Aside._] The Prince of Cumberland!
h I must fall down, or else o
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires.
The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
True, worthy Banquo! He is full so valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed.
It is a banquet to me. Let
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman.
 [_Flourish. Exeunt._]
SCENE V. Inverness. A Room in Macbeth
 Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter.
They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the
st report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I
burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air,
into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came
missives from the King, who all-hailed me,
title, before, these Weird Sisters saluted me, and referred me to the
coming on of time, with
Hail, king that shalt be!
 This have I thought
good to deliver thee (my dearest partner of greatness) that thou
st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what
d thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis
d. Yet do I fear thy nature;
 milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition, but without
The illness should attend M
it. What thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou
dst have, great Glamis,
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
What is your tidings?
The King comes here tonight.
Is not thy master with him? who, were
So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming.
One of my fellows had the speed of him,
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
Than would make up his message.
He brings great news.
 [_Exit Messenger._]
The raven himself is hoarse
 fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
 access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
 effect and it! Come to my woman
And take my milk for gall, your murd
Wherever in your sightless substances
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark
Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.
Duncan comes here tonight.
And when goes hence?
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under
Must be provided for; and you shall put
s great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
To alter favour ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.
SCENE VI. The same. Before the Castle.
 Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending.
 Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus
This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry,M
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle.
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ
The air is delicate.
 Enter Lady Macbeth.
See, see, our honour
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
How you shall bid God
ild us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.
In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business to contend
Against those honours deep and broad wherewith
Your Majesty loads our house: for those of old,
And the late dignities heap
We rest your hermits.
s the Thane of Cawdor?
d him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your Highness
Still to return your own.
Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.
SCENE VII. The same. A Lobby in the Castle.
 Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over, a Sewer and divers
 Servants with dishes and service. Then enter Macbeth.
If it were done when
It were done quickly. If th
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
d jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgement here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
 inventor. This even-handed justice
 ingredience of ourM
s here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind.
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o
 Enter Lady Macbeth.
d. Why have you left the chamber?
Know you not he has?
We will proceed no further in this business:
d me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.
d yourself? Hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
st the ornament of lifeM
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.
That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themsM
elves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know
tis to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
d my nipple from his boneless gums
d the brains out, had I so sworn as you
But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
ll not fail. When Duncan is asleep
(Whereto the rather shall his day
Soundly invite him), M
his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassail so convince
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
 unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spongy officers; who shall bear the guilt
Bring forth men-children only;
For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv
d with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us
d their very daggers,
Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
I am settled, and bend up
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
SCENE I. Inverness. Court within the Castle.
 Enter Banquo and Fleance with a toM
How goes the night, boy?
The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
And she goes down at twelve.
Hold, take my sword.
s husbandry in heaven;
Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers,
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
Gives way to in repose!
 Enter Macbeth and a Servant with a torch.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The King
He hath been in unusual pleasure and
Sent forth great largess to your offices.
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up
In measureless content.
Our will became the servant to defect,
Which else should free have wrought.
I dreamt last night of the three Weird Sisters:
To you they have show
I think not of them:
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.
If you shall cleave to my consent, when
It shall make honour for you.
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
d, and allegiance clear,
Good repose the while!
Thanks, sir: the like tM
 [_Exeunt Banquo and Fleance._]
Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon, gouts of blood,
Which was not so before.
It is the bloody business which informs
er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
d sleep. Witchcraft celebrates
d by his sentinel, the wolf,
s his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
s ravishing strides, towards his design
Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
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 bellM
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.
 Enter Lady Macbeth.
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold:
d them hath given me fire.
It was the owl that shriek
d, the fatal bellman,
Which gives the stern
st good night. He is about it.
The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg
 and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.
Alack! I am afraid they have awak
 attempt and not the deed
I laid their daggers ready;
Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had done
I have done the deed.
Didst thou not hear a noise?
I heard the owl scream and the crickeM
This is a sorry sight.
 [_Looking on his hands._]
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
s sleep, and one cried,
That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them.
But they did say their prayers, and address
As they had seen me with these hangman
ning their fear, I could not say
Consider it not so deeply.
But wherefore could not I pronounce
I had most need of blessing, and
These deeds must not be thought
 ways; so, it will make us mad.
Methought I heard a voice cry,
Macbeth does murder sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell
The death of each day
Balm of hurt minds, great nature
Chief nourisher in life
d sleep, and therefore Cawdor
re. 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
The sleepy grooms with blood.
I am afraid to think what I have done;
daggers. The sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures.
Tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
ll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.
 [_Exit. Knocking within._]
Whence is that knocking?
t with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune
s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
 Enter Lady Macbeth.
My hands are of your color, but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [_Knocking within._] I hear knocking
retire we to our chamber.
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then! Your constancy
Hath left you unattended.
[_Knocking within._] Hark, more knocking.
Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us
And show us to be watchers. Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.
st not know myself. [_Knocking within._]
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!
SCENE III. The same.
 Enter a Porter. Knocking within.
s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell gate, he should
have old turning the key. [_Knocking._] Knock, knock, knock. Who
 name of Belzebub? Here
s a farmer that hanged himself on
the expectation of plenty: come in time; have napkins enow about you;
s an equivocator, that could swear
in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough
s sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come in,
equivocator. [_Knocking._] Knock, knock, knock! Who
s an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French
hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. [_Knocking._]
Knock, knock. Never at quiet! What are you?
ll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in
some of all professions, that go the primrose way to th
bonfire. [_Knocking._] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.
 [_Opens the gate._]
 Enter Macduff and Lennox.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lie so late?
Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock; and drink, sir, is
a great provoker of three things.
What three things doeM
s drink especially provoke?
Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes
and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the
performance. Therefore much drink may be said to be an equivocator with
lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets 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 tM
hee the lie last night.
 the very throat on 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 him.
Is thy master stirring?
Our knocking has awak
d him; here he comes.
Good morrow, noble sir!
Is the King stirring, worthy thane?
He did command me to call timely on himM
ll bring you to him.
I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
The labour we delight in physics pain.
ll make so bold to call.
tis my limited service.
Goes the King hence today?
He does. He did appoint so.
The night has been unruly: where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down and, as they say,
 air, strange screams of death,
And prophesying, with accents terrible,
Of dire combustion and confus
d to the woeful time. The obscure bird
d the live-long night. Some say the earth
Was feverous, and did shake.
My young remembrance cannot parallel
O horror, horror, horror!
Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
s anointed temple, and stole thence
t you say? the life?
Mean you his majesty?
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak.
See, and then speak yourselves.
 [_Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox._]
Ring the alarum bell.
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
 this downy sleep, death
And look on death itself! Up, up, and see
s image. Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites
To countenance this horror!
 [_Alarum-bell rings._]
 Enter Lady Macbeth.
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:
The repetition, in a woman
Would murder as it M
ythee, contradict thyself,
And say it is not so.
 Enter Macbeth and Lennox with Ross.
Had I but died an hour before this chance,
d a blessed time; for, from this instant
s nothing serious in mortality.
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
ft this vault to brag of.
 Enter Malcolm and Donalbain.
You are, and do not know
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
d; the very source of it is stopp
Those of his chamber, as it seem
Their hands and faces were all badg
So were their daggers, which, unwip
Upon their pillows. They star
s life was to be trusted with them.
O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.
Wherefore did you so?
Who can be wise, amaz
d, temperate, and furious,
Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
 expedition of my violent love
Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
d with his golden blood;
d like a breach in nature
s wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
n the colours of their trade, their daggers
d with gore. Who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim this argument for ours?
What should be spoken here, where our fate,
Hid in an auger hole, may rush, and seize us?
s away. Our tears are not yet brew
Nor our strong sorrow
on the foot of motion.
 [_Lady Macbeth is carried out._]
And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
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
Against the undivulg
Of treasonous malice.
s briefly put on manly readiness,
 [_Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain._]
What will you do? Let
s not consort with them:
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
Which the false man does easy. I
To Ireland, I. Our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer. Where we are,
s smiles: the near in blood,
This murderous shaft that
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to hoM
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away. There
s warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there
SCENE IV. The same. Without the Castle.
 Enter Ross and an Old Man.
Threescore and ten I can remember well,
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange, but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.
Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man
 bloody stage: by the clock
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.
s predominance, or the day
That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
When living light should kiss it?
Even like the deed that
s done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk
s horses (a thing most strange and certain)
Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
d wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
gainst obedience, as they would make
Tis said they eat each other.
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
Here comes the good Macduff.
How goes the world, sir, now?
t known who did this more than bloody deed?
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
What good could they pretend?M
Malcolm and Donalbain, the King
n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
d; and gone to Scone
Carried to Colmekill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
Well, I will thither.
Well, may you see things well done there. Adieu!
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
s benison go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
SCENE I. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
It should not stand in thy posterity;
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)
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,
And set me up in hope? But hush; no more.
 Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth as Queen; Lennox,
 Ross, Lords, and Attendants.
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all-thing unbecoming.
Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir,
ll request your presence.
Command upon me, to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
Ride you this afternoon?
We should have else desir
(Which still hath been both grave and prosperous)
As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,
I must become a borrower of the night,
For a dark hour or twain.
My lord, I will not.
We hear our bloody cousins are bestow
In England and in Ireland; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention. But of that tomorrow,
e 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
I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper time alone: while then, God be with you.
 [_Exeunt Lady Macbeth, LordM
Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men
They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
Bring them before us.
To be thus is nothing,
But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that which would be fear
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none but he
Whose being I do fear: and under hiM
s 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,
d him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they plac
d a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
d with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder
s in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to th
 Enter Servant with two Murderers.
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
It was, so please your Highness.
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, pass
d in probation with you
How you were borne in hand, how cross
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
To half a soul and to a notion craz
You made it known to us.
I did so; and went further, which is now
Our point of second meetingM
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell
To pray for this good man and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow
We are men, my liege.
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept
All by the name of dogs: the valu
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtleM
The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
d; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
 worst rank of manhood, say
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off,
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
d that I am reckless what
I do to spite the world.
So weary with disasters, tugg
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it or be rid on
Know Banquo was your enemy.
So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
d 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
That I to your assistance do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye
For sundry weighty reasons.
Perform what you command us.
Your spirits shine through you. WM
ithin this hour at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves,
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o
t must be done tonight
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,
Whose absence is no less material to me
s, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart.
ll come to you anon.
ll call upon you straight: abide within.
 [_Exeunt Murderers._]
It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul
If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.
SCENE II. The same. Another Room in the Palace.
 Enter Lady Macbeth and a Servant.
Is Banquo gone from court?
Ay, madam, but returns again tonight.
Say to the King, I would attend his leisure
Where our desire is got without content:
Tis safer to be that which we destroy,
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: what
d the snake, not kill
ll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint,
Both the worlds suffer,
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,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie
In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
s fitful fever he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poiM
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing
Can touch him further.
Gently my lord, sleek o
er your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.
So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you.
Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
Unsafe the while, that we
Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
s comfort yet; they are assailable.
Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
d flight, ere to black Hecate
The shard-born beetle, with his drowsy hums,
s yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.
nnocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
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,
s black agents to their preys do rouse.
st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
SCENE III. The same. A Park or Lawn, with a gate leading to the Palace.
 Enter three Murderers.
But who did bid thee join with us?
He needs not our mistrust; since he delivers
Our offices and what we have to do
To the direction just.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day.
Now spurs the lated traveller apace,
To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
subject of our watch.
Hark! I hear horses.
[_Within._] Give us a light there, ho!
That are within the note of expectation
His horses go about.
Almost a mile; but he does usually,
So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
 Enter Banquo and Fleance with a torch.
It will be rain tonight.
 [_Assaults Banquo._]
O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
 [_Dies. Fleance escapes._]
Who did strike out the light?
s but one down: the son is fled.
We have lost best half of our affair.
s away, and say how much is doneM
SCENE IV. The same. A Room of state in the Palace.
 A banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Ross, Lennox, Lords
You know your own degrees, sit down. At first
And last the hearty welcome.
Thanks to your Majesty.
Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.
Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
eaks they are welcome.
 Enter first Murderer to the door.
See, they encounter thee with their hearts
Both sides are even: here I
Be large in mirth; anon we
The table round. There
s blood upon thy face.
Tis better thee without than he within.
My lord, his throat is cut. That I did for him.
s good that did the like for Fleance:
If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil.
Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect;
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,
As broad and general as the casing air:
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo
Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The least a death to natM
There the grown serpent lies; the worm that
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
Get thee gone; tomorrow
ll hear, ourselves, again.
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
That is not often vouch
Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
t please your Highness sit.
Here had we now our country
d person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
Than pity for mischance!
Lays blame upon his promise. Please
To grace us with your royal company?
Here is a place reserv
Here, my good lord. What is
t that moves your Highness?
Which of you have done this?
Thou canst not say I did it. Never shake
Thy gory locks at me.
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;
The fit is momentary; upon a thought
He will again be well. IfM
You shall offend him, and extend his passion.
Feed, and regard him not.
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appal the devil.
This is the very painting of your fear:
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
d by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such facM
You look but on a stool.
Behold! look! lo! how say you?
Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
If charnel houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.
 [_Ghost disappears._]
If I stand here, I saw him.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i
Ere humane statute M
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform
Too terrible for the ear: the time has 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
Than such a murder is.
Your noble friends do lack you.
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends.
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothM
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Give me some wine, fill full.
I drink to the general joy o
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss:
To all, and him, we thirst,
Our duties, and the pledge.
Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare wM
Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom:
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Pray you, sit still.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting
And overcome us like a summer
Without our special wonder? You make me strange
Even to the disposition that I owe,
When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine are blanch
What sights, my lord?
 pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him. At once, good night:
Stand not upon the order of your going,
Good night; and better health
A kind good night to all!
 [_Exeunt all Lords and Atendants._]
It will have blood, they say, blood will have blood.
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, and understood relations, have
By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
st thou, that Macduff denies his person
At our great bidding?
Did you send to him, sir?
I hear it by the way; but I will send.
s not a one of them but in his house
I keep a servant fee
(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 gM
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
d in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,
Which must be acted ere they may be scann
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
ll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use.
We are yet but young in deed.
 Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HM
Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.
Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Or show the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
t make amends now: get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron
 morning: thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and everything beside.
Unto a dismal and a fatal end.
Great business must be wrought ere noon.
Upon the corner of the moon
ll catch it ere it come to ground:
d by magic sleights,
Shall raise such artificial sprites,
, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion.
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
bove wisdom, grace, and fear.
And you all know, security
 [_Music and song within,
Come away, come away
d; my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud and stays for me.
ll soon be back again.
SCENE VI. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
Enter Lennox and another Lord.
My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
Which can interpret farther: only, I say,
s have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth:
And the right valiant Banquo walk
Whom, you may say, if
t please you, Fleance kill
For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight,
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear
That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
To hear the men deny
He has borne all things well: and I do think,
s sons under his key
t please heaven, he shall not) they should find
twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
for from broad words, anM
His presence at the tyrant
Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court and is receiv
Of the most pious Edward with such grace
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
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 HimM
To ratify the work), we may again
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
Hath so exasperate the King that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.
He did: and with an absolute
The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
And hums, as who should say,
That clogs me with this answer.
Advise him to a caution, t
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
May soon return to this our suffering country
ll send my prayers with him.
SCENE I. A dark Cave. In the middle, a Cauldron Boiling.
 Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew
Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whin
Round about the cauldron go;
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
d venom sleeping got,
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
f bat, and tongue of dog,
s fork, and blind-worm
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
s mummy, maw and gulf
Root of hemlock digg
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Make the gruel thick and slab:
 ingredients of our cauldron.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
Cool it with a baboon
Then the charm is firm and good.
O, well done! I commend your pains,
And everyone shall share i
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairM
Enchanting all that you put in.
 [_Music and a song:
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
A deed without a name.
I conjure you, by that which you profess,
er you come to know it) answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
 the churches; though the yesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg
d, and trees blown down;
Though castles topple on their warders
Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
s germens tumble all together,
Even till destruction sicken, answer me
dst rather hear it from ourM
Or from our masters?
s blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow; grease that
Thyself and office deftly show!
 [_Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises._]
Tell me, thou unknown power,
He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech, but say thou naught.
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware MacdufM
Beware the Thane of Fife.
er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
He will not be commanded. Here
More potent than the first.
 [_Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises._]
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
Be bloody, bold, and resolute. Laugh to scorn
The power of man, for none M
Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
ll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate. Thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.
 [_Thunder. An Apparition of a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand,
That rises like the issue of a king,
And wears upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty?
Listen, but speak not to
Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!
Rebellious head, rise never till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art
Can tell so much, shall Banquo
Reign in this kingdom?
Seek to know no more.
I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!
 [_A show of eight kings appeaM
r, and pass over in order, the last with
 a glass in his hand; Banquo following._]
Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo. Down!
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs:
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
A third is like the former.
Why do you show me this?
What, will the line stretch out to th
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
Which shows me many morM
That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry.
For the blood-bolter
d Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.
Ay, sir, all this is so:
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
And show the best of our delights.
ll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antic round;
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.
_Music. The Witches dance, and vanish._]
Where are they? Gone?
Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!
Come in, without there!
Saw you the Weird Sisters?
Came they not by you?
No, indeed, my lord.
Infected be the air whereon they ride;
d all those that trust them!
The galloping of horse: who was
Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.
Time, thou anticipat
st my dread exploits:
The flighty purpose never is o
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:
The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to th
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
ll do before this purpose cool:
Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are.
SCENE II. Fife. A Room in Macduff
 Enter Lady Macduff her Son and Ross.
What had he done, to make him fly the land?
You must have patience, madam.
His flight was madness: when our actions do M
Our fears do make us traitors.
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion, and his titles, in a place
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
So runs against all reason.
I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
 season. I dare not speak much further:
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,
But float upon a wild and violent sea
I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were befoM
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.
And what will you do now? How will you live?
As birds do, mother.
What, with worms and flies?
With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
The pit-fall nor the gin.
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?
Nay, how will you do for a husband?
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
st with all thy wit;
 faith, with wit enough for thee.
Was my father a traitor, mother?
Why, one that swears and lies.
And be all traitors that do so?
Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
Why, the honest men.
Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers
enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.
w, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?
If he were dead, you
ld weep for him: if you would not, it were a good
sign that I should quickly have a new father.
Poor prattler, how thou talk
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:
If you will take a homely man
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
 fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.
Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm
Is often laudable; to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly:  why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say I have done no harm? What are these faces?
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
Thou liest, thou shag-ear
Young fry of treachery!
Run away, I pray you!
 [_Dies. Exit Lady Macduff, crying
SCENE III. England. Before the King
 Enter Malcolm and Macduff.
et us seek out some desolate shade and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.
Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men,
Bestride our down-fall
n 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 yell
Like syllable of dolour.
What know, believe; and what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
What you have spoke, M
it may be so, perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest: you have loved him well;
d you yet. I am young; but something
You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb
To appease an angry god.
I am not treacherous.
A good and virtuous nature may recoil
In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon.
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose.
 bright still, though the brightest fell:
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet grace must still look so.
I have lost my hopes.
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,
Without leave-taking?
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,
Whatever I shall think.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs;
Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think
For the whole space that
And the rich East to boot.
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds. I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my rM
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant
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,
By him that shall succeed.
It is myself I mean; in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted
That, when they shall be open
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar
With my confineless harms.
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn
In evils to top Macbeth.
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name: but there
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust; and my desire
All continent impediments would o
That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
Than such an one to reign.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
 untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
the time you may so hoodwink.
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
With this there grows
In my most ill-compos
A staunchless avarice, that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been
The sword of our slainM
 kings: yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will,
Of your mere own. All these are portable,
With other graces weigh
But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temp
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal M
O Scotland, Scotland!
If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accus
And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king. The queen that bore thee,
ner upon her knees M
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat
Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples, reconcil
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
Deal between thee and me! forM
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman; never was forsworn;
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own;
At no time broke my faith; would not betray
The devil to his fellow; and delight
No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
Was this upon myself. What I am truly,
Is thine and my poor country
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
 Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
Already at a point, was setting forth.
ll together, and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel. Why are you silent?
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
Tis hard to reconcile.
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 M
They presently amend.
I thank you, doctor.
s the disease he means?
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,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: anM
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.
See, who comes here?
My countryman; but yet I know him not.
My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
The means that makes us strangers!
Stands Scotland where M
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
d our mother, but our grave, where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that rent the air,
d; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy. The dead man
d for who; and good men
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.
Too nice, and yet too true!
s age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.
And all my children?
The tyrant has not batter
No; they were well at peace when I did leave
Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes
When I came hither to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
orthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witness
For that I saw the tyrant
Now is the time of help. Your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.
We are coming thither. Gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.
Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words
d out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?
But in it shares some woe, though the main part
Pertains to you alone.
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
That ever yet they heard.
Your castle is surpris
d; your wife and babes
d. To relate the manner
Were, on the quarry of these murder
To add the death of you.
er pull your hat upon your brows.
Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.
And I must be from thence!
cines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
Dispute it like a man.
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.
And would not take their part? M
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;
s length set him; if he
Heaven forgive him too!
This tune goes manly.
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. A 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
hen was it she last walked?
Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her
bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper,
t, 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 M
have you heard her say?
That, sir, which I will not report after her.
tis most meet you should.
Neither to you nor anyone; having no witness to confirm my speech.
 Enter Lady Macbeth with a taper.
Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast
asleep. Observe her; stand close.
How came she by that light?
Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually;
You see, her eyes are open.
Ay, but their sense are shut.
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 this a quarter of an hour.
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
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 to have had so much blood in him?
The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is she now?
What, will these hands
er be clean? No more o
 that, my lord, no more o
Go to, go to. You have known what you should not.
She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: heaven knows what
s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will
not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!
What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole
Pray God it be, sir.
This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those M
walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale. I tell you
s buried; he cannot come out on
To bed, to bed. There
s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come,
give me your hand. What
s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to
Will she go now to bed?
e 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 amaz
I think, but dare not speak.
Good night, good doctor.
SCENE II. The Country near Dunsinane.
 Enter, with drum and colours MeM
nteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox and
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.
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 Siward
 youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.
What does the tyrant?
Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
s mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper
Within the belt of rule.
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
 loose about him, like a giant
Upon a dwarfish thief.
Who, then, shall blame
d senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?
To give obedience where
cine of the sickly weal;
And with him pour we, in our country
Or so much as it needs
To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards BirnM
 [_Exeunt, marching._]
SCENE III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.
 Enter Macbeth, Doctor and Attendants.
Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane
I cannot taint with fear. What
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences have pronounc
Fear not, Macbeth; no man that
er have power upon thee.
Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicuM
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac
st thou that goose look?
There is ten thousand
Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,
d boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
The English force, so please you.
Take thy face hence.
Will cheer me ever or disseat me now.
d long enough: my way of life
n into the sere, 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 denM
s your gracious pleasure?
d, my lord, which was reported.
ll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack
Send out more horses, skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.
How does your patient, doctor?
Not so sick, my lord,
led with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
d bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
Must minister to himself.
Throw physic to the dogs, I
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:
Doctor, the Thanes fly from me.
Come, sir, despatch.
If thou couldst, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence? Hear
Ay, my good lord. Your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.
I will not be afraid oM
Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
 [_Exeunt all except Doctor._]
Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
SCENE IV. Country near Dunsinane: a Wood in view.
 Enter, with drum and colours Malcolm, old Siward and his Son, Macduff,
 Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, Ross and Soldiers, marching.
Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
That chambers will be safe.
We doubt it nothing.
What wood is this before us?
Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
t before him. Thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.
We learn no other but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt,M
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.
The time approaches,
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;
Towards which advance the war.
 [_Exeunt, marching._]
SCENE V. Dunsinane. Within the castle.
 Enter with drum and colouM
rs, Macbeth, Seyton and Soldiers.
Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
Till famine and the ague eat them up.
d with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home.
 [_A cry of women within._]
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
got the taste of fears.
The time has been, my senses would have cool
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
d full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.
Wherefore was that cry?
The Queen, my lord, is dead.
She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
his petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
s but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
I should report that which I say I saw,
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
d toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
Let me endure your wrath, if
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.
ull in resolution; and begin
 equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth.
Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;
Comes toward Dunsinane.
If this which he avouches does appear,
There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
gin to be aweary of the sun,
 world were now undone.
Ring the alarum bell!
Blow, wind! come, wrack!
ll die with harness on our back.
I. The same. A Plain before the Castle.
 Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff and their
Now near enough. Your leafy screens throw down,
And show like those you are.
Shall with my cousin, your right noble son,
Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we
s what else remains to do,
According to our order.
Do we but find the tyrant
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fighM
Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
SCENE VII. The same. Another part of the Plain.
 Alarums. Enter Macbeth.
They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly,
But, bear-like I must fight the course.
That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.
 Enter young Siward.
lt be afraid to hear it.
st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
No, nor more fearful.
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant. With my sword
ll prove the lie thou speak
 [_They fight, and young Siward is slain._]
Thou wast born of woman.
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
rums. Enter Macduff.
That way the noise is.
Tyrant, show thy face!
st slain and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children
s ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune!
 Enter Malcolm and old Siward.
s people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war,
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
Enter, sir, the castle.
 [_Exeunt. Alarums._]
SCENE VIII. The same. Another part of the field.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whilesM
 I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.
Turn, hell-hound, turn!
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much charg
With blood of thine already.
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable creM
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
And let the angel whom thou still hast serv
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
d my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope!
ll not fight with thee.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o
ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm
And to be baited with the rabble
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
d, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
m that first cries,
 [_Exeunt fighting. Alarums._]
 Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward,
 Ross, Thanes and Soldiers.
I would the friends we miss were safe arriv
Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier
d but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his proM
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.
Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow
d by his worth, for then
Had he his hurts before?
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll
s worth more sorrow,
They say he parted well and paid his score:
And so, God be with him!
Here comes newer comfort.
 Enter Macduff with Macbeth
Hail, King, for so thou art. Behold, where stands
s cursed head: the time is free.
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,
Hail, King of Scotland!
Hail, King of Scotland!
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 nam
Which would be planted newly with the time,
As calling home our exil
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
tis thought, by self and violent handsM
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 crown
 [_Flourish. Exeunt._]
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ass="container-lg px-3 my-5 markdown-body">
      <h1><a href="https://etching-net.github.io/">etching-net.github.io</a></h1>
      <h1 id="etchingnet"><a href="http://etching.net/">etching.net</a></h1>
<h6 id="preserving-seminal-knowledge-and-culture-on-the-immutable-ledger-of-bitcoin"><em>Preserving seminal knowledge and culture on the immutable ledger of Bitcoin</em><a class="anchorjs-link " href="#preserving-seminal-knowledge-and-culture-on-the-immutable-ledger-of-bitcoin" aria-label="AnchoM
r" data-anchorjs-icon="
" style="font: 1em / 1 anchorjs-icons; padding-left: 0.375em;"></a></h6>
<h3 id="what-is-this">What is this?<a class="anchorjs-link " href="#what-is-this" aria-label="Anchor" data-anchorjs-icon="
" style="font: 1em / 1 anchorjs-icons; padding-left: 0.375em;"></a></h3>
<p>Welcome to etching.net
s <a href="#digital-artifact-index"><strong>DIGITAL ARTIFACT INDEX</strong></a>,
 a volunteer-curated list of Bitcoin digital artifacts that preserve
seminal works with longstanding cultM
ural value.  Anyone can contribute a
 record to the index!</p>
<h3 id="why-though">Why though?<a class="anchorjs-link " href="#why-though" aria-label="Anchor" data-anchorjs-icon="
" style="font: 1em / 1 anchorjs-icons; padding-left: 0.375em;"></a></h3>
<p>The mission of etching.net is to safeguard humanity
knowledge on the blockchain, like a time-capsule, in order to reduce the
 potential damage to civilization in the case of a catastrophic event.</p>
<p>These records can also serve as aM
 rich public library for learning
anywhere in the world today, as well as in the far, uncertain future.</p>
<h3 id="how-is-it-different-from-other-nfts">How is it different from other NFTs?<a class="anchorjs-link " href="#how-is-it-different-from-other-nfts" aria-label="Anchor" data-anchorjs-icon="
" style="font: 1em / 1 anchorjs-icons; padding-left: 0.375em;"></a></h3>
<p>Young memes reflected on nonfungible tokens (NFTs) often swing wildly
 in their popularity and price. By embracing time-tested memes M
 ideas that have consistently captivated the minds of the day
and their ancestors
 etching.net points to a long-term value
proposition for the NFT space that places quality above quantity.</p>
<p>The vision is to start small and simple, promote steady contributions
 through organic growth, and carefully consider iterative improvements
<h3 id="who-contributes">Who contributes?<a class="anchorjs-link " href="#who-contributes" aria-label="Anchor" data-anchorjs-M
" style="font: 1em / 1 anchorjs-icons; padding-left: 0.375em;"></a></h3>
<p>You. Yes, you! This undertaking would be impossibly time-consuming
and expensive for an individual, but it
s great fun to chip away at as
part of a global community.</p>
<p>Here are three ways you can help right now:</p>
    <p><a href="https://github.com/etching-net/etching-net.github.io/edit/main/README.md"><strong>INDEX</strong></a>
 Add the Ordinal of an existing digital artifact to be included iM
<strong>Fields</strong>: ART, HISTORY, HOW-TO, RELIGION, SCIENCE<br>
<strong>Media</strong>: TEXT, PDF, IMAGE, AUDIO, VIDEO, HTML, JSON, OTHER<br>
(<a href="https://ordinals.com/">More about Ordinals</a>, including how to inscribe a digital artifact yourself
    <p><a href="http://etching.net/"><strong>SHARE</strong></a> - Tell your friends (especially the doubters!) to visit <a href="http://etching.net/">etching.net</a><br>
so they can see for themselves an example of M
what Bitcoin is doing for people all around the planet.</p>
    <p><a href="https://getmonero.org/"><strong>SUPPORT</strong></a>
 Fund new inscriptions by donating Monero (XMR):<br>
 <code class="language-plaintext highlighter-rouge">8C6s3puMLw2djCDVNGeeWyQDUL3RJrivMK5KNxqsviJdfADtXPsuyxXRYMRdAMgy6m2gHC4kdqPrqNhPcdqr8AeSKXAgm6J</code></p>
<p>Good luck! May you enjoy a peaceful day of good health and a night of happy dreams
<h1 id="digital-artifact-index">DIGITAL M
      <th style="text-align: right">Ordinal</th>
      <th>Artifact</th>
      <th style="text-align: center">Medium</th>
      <th style="text-align: center">Field</th>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/0">0</a></td>
      <td>BITCOIN GENESIS SATOSHI</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">OTHER</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
   <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1763605954827093">1763605954827093</a></td>
      <td>BITCOIN: A PEER-TO-PEER ELECTRONIC CASH SYSTEM</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">PDF</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514403205417">1225514403205417</a></td>
      <td>BUDDHA - DISCOURSE ON LOVING-FRIENDLINESS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
 <td style="text-align: center">RELIGION</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494154435">1523586494154435</a></td>
      <td>JESUS - SERMON ON THE MOUNT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">RELIGION</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514403256383">1225514403256383</a></td>
      <td>AESOP - FABLES</td>
      <td style="text-aligM
n: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1557902570451532">1557902570451532</a></td>
      <td>APOLLO 8 - EARTHRISE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1919259819659156">1919259819659156</a></td>
      <td>ARISTOTLE - POETICS</td>
<td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HISTORY</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1922840005913310">1922840005913310</a></td>
      <td>CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HISTORY</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1589162660472716">1589162660472716</a></td>
<td>DA VINCI - MONA LISA</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/458683336146801">458683336146801</a></td>
      <td>DA VINCI - THE LAST SUPPER</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1534430654572609">15344306545M
      <td>DARWIN - ORIGIN OF SPECIES, CHAPTERS I-IV</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1439825197435574">1439825197435574</a></td>
      <td>DARWIN - ORIGIN OF SPECIES, CHAPTERS V-VIII</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: riM
ght"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1923418053951037">1923418053951037</a></td>
      <td>DARWIN - ORIGIN OF SPECIES, CHAPTERS IX-XII</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1534430654837266">1534430654837266</a></td>
      <td>DARWIN - ORIGIN OF SPECIES, CHAPTERS XIII-XV</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: cenM
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/960836826751038">960836826751038</a></td>
      <td>DEBUSSY - R
      <td style="text-align: center">PDF</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HOW-TO</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1922840005901100">1922840005901100</a></td>
      <td>DELARATION OF INDEPENDENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
d style="text-align: center">HISTORY</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1447382445812188">1447382445812188</a></td>
      <td>DELARATION OF INDEPENDENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HISTORY</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514402991548">1225514402991548</a></td>
      <td>DESCARTES - MEDITATIONS ON FIRST PHILOSOPHY I-II</tdM
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1919259819764712">1919259819764712</a></td>
      <td>DICKINSON - POEMS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/807450667009493">807450667009493</a></td>
      <td>DOSTOEVSKM
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1923417625224484">1923417625224484</a></td>
      <td>ESCHER - DRAWING HANDS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/458683336545573">458683336545573</a></td>
      <td>ESCHER - HAND WITH REFLECTING SPHERE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553586114266">1382553586114266</a></td>
      <td>ESCHER - METAMORPHOSIS III</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/4586M
83336729215">458683336729215</a></td>
      <td>ESCHER - RELATIVITY</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514403227533">1225514403227533</a></td>
      <td>FROST - STOPPING BY THE WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: rigM
ht"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585280993">1382553585280993</a></td>
      <td>FROST - THE ROAD NOT TAKEN</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494736651">1523586494736651</a></td>
DEL - ON FORMALLY UNDECIDABLE PROPOSITIONS OF PRINCIPIA MATHEMATICA AND RELATED SYSTEMS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
d style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1599207335920828">1599207335920828</a></td>
      <td>GOGOL - THE CLOAK</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1534430655343159">1534430655343159</a></td>
      <td>GOGOL - THE NOSE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</M
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585900375">1382553585900375</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - ASHPUTTEL [CINDERELLA]</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585932281">1382553585932281</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - BRIAR ROSE [SLEEPING BEAUTY]</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585976257">1382553585976257</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - DEATH
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494971580">1523586494971580</a></td>
RIMMS - FAIRY TALE COLLECTION</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494871465">1523586494871465</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - HANS IN LUCK</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982294816933">19149822948M
      <td>GRIMMS - HANSEL AND GRETEL</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982294852229">1914982294852229</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - LITTLE RED-CAP [LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD]</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="httpM
s://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494901193">1523586494901193</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - LITTLE SNOW WHITE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514402943750">1225514402943750</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - PUSS IN BOOTS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-aliM
gn: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514402968996">1225514402968996</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - RAPUNZEL</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494930555">1523586494930555</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - RUMPELSTILTSKIN</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
d style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586494951001">1523586494951001</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE CHILDREN OF HAMELN [PIED PIPER]</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553586017680">1382553586017680</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="texM
t-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982295192635">1914982295192635</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585955583">1382553585955583</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE FROG-PRINCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: centM
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586495459384">1523586495459384</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE GOLDEN BIRD</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1523586495490072">1523586495490072</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE GOLDEN GOOSE</td>
d style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553586064968">1382553586064968</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE GOOSE-GIRL</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585992299">1382553585992299</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE KINM
G OF THE GOLDEN MOUNTAIN</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982295116743">1914982295116743</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE TOWN MUSICIANS OF BREMEN</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553586094054">M
1382553586094054</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553586033650">1382553586033650</a></td>
      <td>GRIMMS - TOM THUMB</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https:M
//ordinals.com/sat/1523586494208336">1523586494208336</a></td>
      <td>GUNARATANA - MINDFULNESS IN PLAIN ENGLISH</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HOW-TO</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982295136843">1914982295136843</a></td>
      <td>HANDEY - DEEP THOUGHTS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
 style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1923401984582909">1923401984582909</a></td>
      <td>HOKUSAI - THE GREAT WAVE OFF KANAGAWA</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1745928628280026">1745928628280026</a></td>
      <td>HOLY BIBLE - JAMES, CHAPTERS 1-5</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: ceM
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1923402035809488">1923402035809488</a></td>
      <td>KAFKA - THE METAMORPHOSIS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514402918546">1225514402918546</a></td>
      <td>KING - I HAVE A DREAM</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
  <td style="text-align: center">HISTORY</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1439825198178092">1439825198178092</a></td>
      <td>MACHIAVELLI - THE PRINCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HISTORY</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1924963397085364">1924963397085364</a></td>
      <td>MICHELANGELO	- THE CREATION OF ADAM</td>
 style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585296193">1382553585296193</a></td>
      <td>MOON PHOTOGRAPH</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1439825197974208">1439825197974208</a></td>
      <td>MUSASHI - A BOOK OFM
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HOW-TO</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1382553585521485">1382553585521485</a></td>
      <td>NASH - NONCOOPERATIVE GAMES</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">PDF</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982294875147">1914982294875147<M
      <td>PERIODIC TABLE OF THE ELEMENTS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">SCIENCE</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1914982295221085">1914982295221085</a></td>
      <td>PICASSO - GUERNICA</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/15344M
30655174599">1534430655174599</a></td>
      <td>PLATO - EUTHYPHRO</td>
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      <td>POE - ANNABEL LEE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinalsM
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      <td>POE - THE RAVEN</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1439825198066954">1439825198066954</a></td>
      <td>ROTHFUSS - THE LIGHTNING TREE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a hrM
ef="https://ordinals.com/sat/1599207336248477">1599207336248477</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - A MIDSUMMER NIGHT
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1923420089154406">1923420089154406</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - HAMLET</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
  <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1297028745481299">1297028745481299</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - JULIUS CAESAR</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1781833496969148">1781833496969148</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - KING LEAR</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1297028745562627">1297028745562627</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - MACBETH</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/252814439447381">252814439447381</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - OTHELLO</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: cM
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1919259819930934">1919259819930934</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - ROMEO AND JULIET</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1297028745404172">1297028745404172</a></td>
      <td>SHAKESPEARE - SONNETS</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
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xt-align: center">TEXT</td>
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 - THE ART OF WAR</td>
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      <td>TIANANMEN SQUARE</td>
     <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
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      <td>TOLSTOY - HADJI MURAT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">TEXT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
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GH - STARRY NIGHT</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">IMAGE</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ART</td>
      <td style="text-align: right"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1225514403242330">1225514403242330</a></td>
      <td>WHITMAN - O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!</td>
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      <td>WHITMAN - SONG OF MYSELF</td>
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"><a href="https://ordinals.com/sat/1534430655284860">1534430655284860</a></td>
      <td>ETCHING.NET - DIGITAL ARTIFACT INDEX 2</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HTML</td>
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      <td>ETCHING.NET - PUBLIC PGP KEY</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">ASC</td>
      <td style="text-align: center">HOW-TO</td>
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al Creatures 100/100
@OrdCreatures on Twitter
https://twitter.com/OrdCreatures
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al Creatures 100/100
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Ordinal Faces Inscription IDs:
{"Ordinal Creatures": "01", "inscription": "ddf3e426ac976f4bd6c230c85cd73e1a8167fc3fdc347033d4392b15def3e569i0"}
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "04", "M
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "24", "inscription": "c14a823b0904a50bffaa8dae1eee0bc974aad7e04c67477e9fc40de50ac7d667i0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "25", "inscription": "9955342bf42f33887149b867c99cdb576dc170176d22ec9f99a9960caae81768i0"}
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "33", "inscription": "d00f8fa5daafcb4b6dcd3c998c35ea8b969973be9a36677b447688d7ee86b782i0"}
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "35", "inscription": "dcc5189cdf13e6206607df8f906e1ad653c8411d4e109e9ee222fe17867a9d88i0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures":M
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "37", "inscription": "5320509556f180c493121dc103e6eb0f4aa9338c23dce9a3d6c0d168308c5090i0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "38", "inscription": "6ac7974c4fc6837a8f21b63869ce78ab502f6638bd7a6d363f2f70bf8cfc9898i0"}
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "42", "inscription": "fd76ef57fff9b96c84d3c4193b357eaefd33031048c0294c223e263247552f9ci0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "43", "inscription": "b8469544a03b0f4f30c12de5aa8d2a813926a0abeb2cd97061972071657fa99di0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "44", "inscription": "92562a141bd25680a80efa3cfcbb87c08c2afa4564ce2e6b4febb4644cd8a8a0i0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "45", "inscriM
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "46", "inscription": "ba4923909374f7fc49690cfb54313cc97ac32db4aa71038de5a2cbb954d682aei0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "47", "inscription": "80756d7af21a2e3644560d68ab39084645302d1d91af823d462d3399c32825b2i0"}
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "51", "inscription": "773aafb0bef900f5f4bb581b03fe9bff2d8bd5cbf97b4fe6b30cf5dd48d53ebfi0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "52", "inscription": "d99f4b0029be1938d7e03d4af9d93b5aacd21f12822dba1164420071e7e532c1i0"}
{"Ordinal Creatures": "53", "inscription": "fb2e1fd9396b4a5bc8f4bdf772e42f5cb9722a3175e371616854e93d365922c3i0"}
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   __________________________
  /\                         \
 /  \            ____         \    The word of our God
/ \/ \          /\   \         \
\ /\  \         \ \   \         \  shall stand for ever.
 \  \  \     ____\_\   \______   \
  \   /\\   /\                \   \
   \ /\/ \  \ \_______    _____\   \         Isaiah 40:8
    \\/ / \  \/______/\   \____/    \
     \ / /\\         \ \   \         \
      \ /\/ \         \ \   \         \
       \\/ / \         \ \   \         \
        \ /   \         \ M
         \\  /\\         \ \   \         \
May God   \ /\  \         \ \___\         \
           \\    \         \/___/          \
bless you   \  \/ \                         \
             \ /\  \_________________________\  Bible Ordinals
in all  your  \  \ / ______________________  /  @BibleOrdinals on Twitter
               \  / ______________________  /   https://twitter.com/BibleOrdinals
endeavours!     \/_________________________/    www.bibleordinals.com
Bible Ordinal New Testament InscriM
Matthew,		"inscription": "54a1d0bf0e7e76ef2957aed3f0fd706731c000da9d437c3a629d83352bb9867di0", "inscription number": "78106"
Mark,		"inscription": "4e3713991f965579ea1f79f1100aae8fa3fce205f3ea8a959e285236467a2c23i0", "inscription number": "77079"
Luke,		"inscription": "8088da9ce1d7b467f7ff8a69deef5bb675b70c0981fd7f14eab5c7aa961577cdi0", "inscription number": "78162"
John,		"inscription": "19ffbb4de0967cc0ca2be81ed0cc47cbc66290d1f5914fea75cdc0d729bb78b5i0", "inscription number": "78142"
on": "8f6741397c8fb6c04d9188d8e3490a6b066eeff9fb8ddddf4b74dfce1d29937bi0", "inscription number": "89295"
Romans,		"inscription": "af5935e3d0b1126427a2d14ca1cb8e6118af8aea9f5acdd629dd0c2909ededa5i0", "inscription number": "101709"
1 Corinthians,	"inscription": "bef497df1afc3a4f8b719bc3809a0d40e43303e031f2543cfa7bafe0277d8461i0", "inscription number": "125846"
2 Corinthians,	"inscription": "e831f1d927d1a9a9112551d3b0b7227fa17ccef8fa3493999022857d403eade4i0", "inscription number": "125848"
Galatians,	"inscription": "3M
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Ephesians,	"inscription": "dc8340be7ad78b010f7d14639fbaf9bd5b66ecb7a6b7bbf4351d8030c939109di0", "inscription number": "101697"
Philippians,	"inscription": "c019f374ecde5704c3597acd3cfc43a4536eb4c98a283a9e2ec2e6f40cff7210i0", "inscription number": "122581"
Colossians,	"inscription": "a07128847b0ecde91387d7fca9a2fe337776267262626a6ec0e087f956f449a5i0", "inscription number": "91488"
1 Thessalonians,	"inscription": "cd609M
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2 Thessalonians,	"inscription": "2861c5916280f877862d03650e3a42dd8ef3d4c2bc14a96323ee004ba6ebf9edi0", "inscription number": "125849"
1 Timothy,	"inscription": "e06d3c6dcccffcce02126f4ea473ebefb7495d1e8f5a8401b5684ceb32ec1b44i0", "inscription number": "125032"
2 Timothy,	"inscription": "cdfb862591fe922b7a57cd6e875ee1a099aa746abec2712d013aadac9b023d2ei0", "inscription number": "125031"
Titus,		"inscription": "1ccb5178c37806M
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Philemon,	"inscription": "4a4f623bbfd40fa7b7a1679f8326e48c7999aacf38aefc724029b589b6987dcci0", "inscription number": "113656"
Hebrews,		"inscription": "084a856739d6de6c5faa54aa2ffcc4f6be5448bd9f68f262bcbec760ddd5645ci0", "inscription number": "89279"
James,		"inscription": "ec4238247aa074a3821ee2c7250093f8f8e9b267e20b78497399e17a49e96c31i0", "inscription number": "91412"
1 Peter,		"inscription": "ecd4fe862ecdb734e52dbfea0bc074d20dM
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2 Peter,		"inscription": "c7127721009acca06da7b3f744bad927f2f85af0d64e8bbd9eebf68e201e27b1i0", "inscription number": "125036"
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c/Foundry USA Pool #dropgold/
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We are fast approaching the stage of the ultimate inversion: the stage where the government is free to do anything it pleases, while the citizens may act only by permission; which is the stage of the darkest periods of human history, the stage of rule by brute force.
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Copyright (c) 1998 Hewlett-Packard Company
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What 'multiculturalism' boils down to is that you can praise any culture in the world except Western culture - and you cannot blame any culture in the world except Western culture.
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The people made worse off by slavery were those who were enslaved. Their descendants would have been worse off today if born in Africa instead of America. Put differently, the terrible fate of their ancestors benefitted them.
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Run for your life from any man who tells you that money is evil. That sentence is the leper's bell of an approaching looter.
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Government 'help' to business is just as disastrous as government persecution... the only way a government can be of service to national prosperity is by keeping its hands off. Ayn Rand
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The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities.
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The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws.
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   __________________________
  /\                         \
 /  \            ____         \      The word of our God
/ \/ \          /\   \         \
\ /\  \         \ \   \         \  shall stand for ever.
 \  \  \     ____\_\   \______   \
  \   /\\   /\                \   \
   \ /\/ \  \ \_______    _____\   \         Isaiah 40:8
    \\/ / \  \/______/\   \____/    \
     \ / /\\         \ \   \         \
      \ /\/ \         \ \   \         \
       \\/ / \         \ \   \         \
        \ /   \         M
         \\  /\\         \ \   \         \
May God   \ /\  \         \ \___\         \
           \\    \         \/___/          \
bless you   \  \/ \                         \
             \ /\  \_________________________\  Bible Ordinals
in all  your  \  \ / ______________________  /  @BibleOrdinals on Twitter
               \  / ______________________  /   https://twitter.com/BibleOrdinals
endeavours!     \/_________________________/    www.bibleordinals.com
Bible Ordinals New Testament InsM
Matthew,			"inscription": "54a1d0bf0e7e76ef2957aed3f0fd706731c000da9d437c3a629d83352bb9867di0", "inscription number": "78106"
Mark,			"inscription": "4e3713991f965579ea1f79f1100aae8fa3fce205f3ea8a959e285236467a2c23i0", "inscription number": "77079"
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John,			"inscription": "19ffbb4de0967cc0ca2be81ed0cc47cbc66290d1f5914fea75cdc0d729bb78b5i0", "inscription number": "78142"
nscription": "8f6741397c8fb6c04d9188d8e3490a6b066eeff9fb8ddddf4b74dfce1d29937bi0", "inscription number": "89295"
Romans,			"inscription": "af5935e3d0b1126427a2d14ca1cb8e6118af8aea9f5acdd629dd0c2909ededa5i0", "inscription number": "101709"
1 Corinthians,	"inscription": "bef497df1afc3a4f8b719bc3809a0d40e43303e031f2543cfa7bafe0277d8461i0", "inscription number": "125846"
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Colossians,		"inscription": "a07128847b0ecde91387d7fca9a2fe337776267262626a6ec0e087f956f449a5i0", "inscription number": "91488"
1 Thessalonians,	"inscripM
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1 Timothy,		"inscription": "e06d3c6dcccffcce02126f4ea473ebefb7495d1e8f5a8401b5684ceb32ec1b44i0", "inscription number": "125032"
2 Timothy,		"inscription": "cdfb862591fe922b7a57cd6e875ee1a099aa746abec2712d013aadac9b023d2ei0", "inscription number": "125031"
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Hebrews,			"inscription": "084a856739d6de6c5faa54aa2ffcc4f6be5448bd9f68f262bcbec760ddd5645ci0", "inscription number": "89279"
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1 John,			"inscription": "9b13836277bac68d1d20490baca5ff3685faf1929dcbe423987b5227d46be276i0", "inscription number": "125034"
2 John,			"inscription": "74aa6b110806b26dc3830e14d36d020e77541ef6991a641b710d0ea3766f2ae1i0", "inscription number": "125037"
3 John,			"inscription": "ae736bd0d2d397132da816c3a8ccMC
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Jude,			"inscription": "d5428fd19af6fdcbb61ed11d4bcd8dc0443293a413ba22ec1d18257ca093190ei0", "inscription number": "91381"
Revelation,		"inscription": "f5810b64bb71a2b1369768c25eddc625e4dbbaf12c2ab7ce8c8fd3e4c9bcea17i0", "inscription number": "101517"h!
text/html;charset=utf-8
    <title>Send Bitcoin for a Good Time</title>
    <meta charset="utf-8">
        background-color: black;
        color: white;
        font-size: 36px;
        font-family: sans-serif;
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        margin-bottoM
        font-size: 36px;
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        color: black;
        border: none;
        padding: 20px 40px;
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        cursor: pointer;
      button:hover {
        background-color: #ffc107;
    <h1>YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS. SEND BITCOIN FOR A SPOOKY GOOD TIME</h1>
    <p>Send your Bitcoin to the following address:</p>
    <p class="address">bc1pkxhcfwgclrrqtwtgM
v5pg745wyh5f5a8t3lsqf7m4ju3g4j9nhykq9k5pc8</p>
    <div class="qr-code">
      <img src="https://chart.googleapis.com/chart?chs=200x200&cht=qr&chl=bc1pkxhcfwgclrrqtwtgv5pg745wyh5f5a8t3lsqf7m4ju3g4j9nhykq9k5pc8&choe=UTF-8" alt="Bitcoin QR code">
    <form action="bitcoin:bc1pkxhcfwgclrrqtwtgv5pg745wyh5f5a8t3lsqf7m4ju3g4j9nhykq9k5pc8" method="get">
        <button type="submit">Pay with Bitcoin</button>
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FjDOUT:0F3BF895C47724A6C1ADC7A7C0CA82286C0A5A0CEC2E233BC8FA8C37A628A11A
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   __________________________
  /\                         \
 /  \            ____         \      The word of our God
/ \/ \          /\   \         \
\ /\  \         \ \   \         \  shall stand for ever.
 \  \  \     ____\_\   \______   \
  \   /\\   /\                \   \
   \ /\/ \  \ \_______    _____\   \         Isaiah 40:8
    \\/ / \  \/______/\   \____/    \
     \ / /\\         \ \   \         \
      \ /\/ \         \ \   \         \
       \\/ / \         \ \   \         \
        \ /   \         M
         \\  /\\         \ \   \         \
May God   \ /\  \         \ \___\         \
           \\    \         \/___/          \
bless you   \  \/ \                         \
             \ /\  \_________________________\  Bible Ordinals
in all  your  \  \ / ______________________  /  @BibleOrdinals on Twitter
               \  / ______________________  /   https://twitter.com/BibleOrdinals
endeavours!     \/_________________________/    www.bibleordinals.com
Bible Ordinals New Testament InsM
Matthew,         "inscription": "54a1d0bf0e7e76ef2957aed3f0fd706731c000da9d437c3a629d83352bb9867di0", "inscription #":  "78106"
Mark,            "inscription": "4e3713991f965579ea1f79f1100aae8fa3fce205f3ea8a959e285236467a2c23i0", "inscription #":  "77079"
Luke,            "inscription": "8088da9ce1d7b467f7ff8a69deef5bb675b70c0981fd7f14eab5c7aa961577cdi0", "inscription #":  "78162"
John,            "inscription": "19ffbb4de0967cc0ca2be81ed0cc47cbc66290d1f5914fea75cdc0d729bb78b5i0", "inscription #":  "M
Acts,            "inscription": "8f6741397c8fb6c04d9188d8e3490a6b066eeff9fb8ddddf4b74dfce1d29937bi0", "inscription #":  "89295"
Romans,          "inscription": "af5935e3d0b1126427a2d14ca1cb8e6118af8aea9f5acdd629dd0c2909ededa5i0", "inscription #": "101709"
1 Corinthians,   "inscription": "bef497df1afc3a4f8b719bc3809a0d40e43303e031f2543cfa7bafe0277d8461i0", "inscription #": "125846"
2 Corinthians,   "inscription": "e831f1d927d1a9a9112551d3b0b7227fa17ccef8fa3493999022857d403eade4i0", "inscription #": "125848"
alatians,       "inscription": "37ab84b452834b5f92efcfbbb4f19bd39f4004a2cf6e9aab118ba0611a8aff2fi0", "inscription #": "113650"
Ephesians,       "inscription": "dc8340be7ad78b010f7d14639fbaf9bd5b66ecb7a6b7bbf4351d8030c939109di0", "inscription #": "101697"
Philippians,     "inscription": "c019f374ecde5704c3597acd3cfc43a4536eb4c98a283a9e2ec2e6f40cff7210i0", "inscription #": "122581"
Colossians,      "inscription": "a07128847b0ecde91387d7fca9a2fe337776267262626a6ec0e087f956f449a5i0", "inscription #":  "91488"
onians, "inscription": "cd60951f72a341b517e9157529d71122fd04ef3035e35bf94b2d58914d763566i0", "inscription #": "125847"
2 Thessalonians, "inscription": "2861c5916280f877862d03650e3a42dd8ef3d4c2bc14a96323ee004ba6ebf9edi0", "inscription #": "125849"
1 Timothy,       "inscription": "e06d3c6dcccffcce02126f4ea473ebefb7495d1e8f5a8401b5684ceb32ec1b44i0", "inscription #": "125032"
2 Timothy,       "inscription": "cdfb862591fe922b7a57cd6e875ee1a099aa746abec2712d013aadac9b023d2ei0", "inscription #": "125031"
"inscription": "1ccb5178c37806be68c8c9c3010b5321da63b92a36f01f2bfe7ea8fe8bac9fbai0", "inscription #": "101736"
Philemon,        "inscription": "4a4f623bbfd40fa7b7a1679f8326e48c7999aacf38aefc724029b589b6987dcci0", "inscription #": "113656"
Hebrews,         "inscription": "084a856739d6de6c5faa54aa2ffcc4f6be5448bd9f68f262bcbec760ddd5645ci0", "inscription #":  "89279"
James,           "inscription": "ec4238247aa074a3821ee2c7250093f8f8e9b267e20b78497399e17a49e96c31i0", "inscription #":  "91412"
1 Peter,         "inscripM
tion": "ecd4fe862ecdb734e52dbfea0bc074d20d5e589c8ab5bca9293a5481ff83356bi0", "inscription #": "125033"
2 Peter,         "inscription": "c7127721009acca06da7b3f744bad927f2f85af0d64e8bbd9eebf68e201e27b1i0", "inscription #": "125036"
1 John,          "inscription": "9b13836277bac68d1d20490baca5ff3685faf1929dcbe423987b5227d46be276i0", "inscription #": "125034"
2 John,          "inscription": "74aa6b110806b26dc3830e14d36d020e77541ef6991a641b710d0ea3766f2ae1i0", "inscription #": "125037"
3 John,          "inscription": "M^
ae736bd0d2d397132da816c3a8ccfd66ce709f1a1e2fbd4d79d23b9a5ab4ddf9i0", "inscription #": "125038"
Jude,            "inscription": "d5428fd19af6fdcbb61ed11d4bcd8dc0443293a413ba22ec1d18257ca093190ei0", "inscription #":  "91381"
Revelation,      "inscription": "f5810b64bb71a2b1369768c25eddc625e4dbbaf12c2ab7ce8c8fd3e4c9bcea17i0", "inscription #": "101517"h!
XXX000!!!hhh<<<YYY222"""
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msg db "guess an number
msg2 db "congratulations
times 510-($-$$) db 0
KjISWAPTX:0x6e76a5faf6ebdb82fb56e6d45439846051c555d6b950eec1ec973e61d294767a
Aj?=:ETH.ETH:0x32C57b53197fAB27605ae93cbF5B69Af862365E1:2374983::0
JjH=:BNB.BUSD-BD1:bnb1perrjsymyfuv48ep6w4cr0c090geasl7y4c2qp:43737012443::0
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     <Attrib:Created>2023-02-10</Attrib:Created>
     <Attrib:ExtId>aa2c51fc-3fdb-4fc3-b6d8-4fcb2c3fc19a</Attrib:ExtId>
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 <rdf:Description rdf:about=''
  xmlns:dc='http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/'>
    <rdf:li xml:lang='x-default'>&quot;Bitcoin is a mirage
 The idea that it has some huge intrinsic valueM
 is just a joke in my view.&quot; - 20</rdf:li>
 <rdf:Description rdf:about=''
  xmlns:pdf='http://ns.adobe.com/pdf/1.3/'>
  <pdf:Author>raska696969</pdf:Author>
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                         M





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  xmlns:dc='http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/'>
    <rdf:li xml:lang='x-default'>&quot;Bitcoin is a mirage
 The idea that it has some huge intrinsic valueM
 is just a joke in my view.&quot; - 19</rdf:li>
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2023-02-17T04:27:43+00:00Lu
2023-02-17T04:27:43+00:00
2023-02-17T04:27:48+00:00
FjDOUT:2DEFC8F18A5B25FC4C8FB72E840651F8C876B9631BCEFE4FE705E1CADAA5E243
FjDOUT:F9F7551184850348E873E05B739B3EC80A2796FB92FBAD9948EB2D93878C8E34
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the satoshi is the arth!
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 Ordinal Cars gives you a unique way to enjoy owning a rare car. Buckle up and ride.",
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This file is being uploaded for provenance purposes, to establish Ordinal Cars origin and ensure its authenticity.
      .--------.              .--------.               .--------.
  ___/_____|___ \___     ____/_____|___ \___      ____/_____|___ \___
 O   _   - |   _   ,*   O    _   - |   _   ,*    O    _   - |   _   ,*
 '--(_)-------(_)--'     '--(_)-------(_)--'      '--(_)-------(_)--'
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
text/plain;charset=utf-8
Ordinal Satoshis 100/100
- Available on Opensea [Ethereum] redeemable 1:1 for their inscriptions.
@SatoshiOrdinal on Twitter
https://twitter.com/SatoshiOrdinal
Discord : https://discord.gg/7htme3JnXz
OpenSea : https://opensea.io/collection/ordinal-satoshis
Ordinal Satoshis Inscription IDs:
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '1', 'inscription': '5240ddfc35e20471f8f03ab13ad1b7b49d22d1551eff3f2a6a16b4b53104dbbai0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '2', 'inscription': '2ad1211ec3c9af7e3c994e9495192c09665e630148f94f1546164da50ea06135i0'}
'Ordinal Satoshis': '3', 'inscription': 'b228c83abba3e1c581e85e13af517634962c0f6810465787394edd6141f6c792i0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '4', 'inscription': '2414e56baf0a13cafcef830f67d64726e3ed0c9930fd292d8c1658a5018ccb5di0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '5', 'inscription': 'b46204d09a91ef6c5a012ac6cf5474fbca8061a1eaa6dd40596bcc0f3667047bi0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '6', 'inscription': '78d402f9af28291e22a208f46838db734956968632226dadf031849b1787b3c4i0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '7', 'inscription': '3618f79396d2e5ce62166a79d270e5c49b9M
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{'Ordinal Satoshis': '8', 'inscription': '3ecd42e72257b7e9a54b141b82047595050514635ada545fcc773b4e6b4b8f9ci0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '9', 'inscription': '8591d6caca262046602abf2ba9911b91187899cb11c8ac5b7e1c600b2512b59ai0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '10', 'inscription': 'cdac49cb2f989282adb00ac9b9083041b8b56adbf530f37dcb55921f5967408ai0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '11', 'inscription': '07d74f4cd5fb2c2358037d926bfebe344ea8e951cea79d337314c37004882c0bi0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '12', 'inscription'M
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{'Ordinal Satoshis': '24', 'inscription': '71ef246e2bc058b1e0e282ed08eed5e3448004a20a2a3bc023b02c649c07793ai0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '25', 'inscription': '21f34bc5f080c8f04807ed3d34ccb41e586b9d8469ed560acd22012c677a0252i0'}
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{'Ordinal Satoshis': '34', 'inscription': 'bb42fc089ed2532dc3a7a85af22e5a1b81a9e8087709f311929abea68a2b141ai0'}
{'Ordinal Satoshis': '35', 'inscription': '33ae675a3fc754865d75cM
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{'Ordinal Satoshis': '36', 'inscription': 'bd2fc1f58d2b69be7981edc52c11b26378a02b49df0f6b518f2197aeb1ca81a3i0'}
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Provided by The Internet Classics Archive.
See bottom for copyright. Available online at
    http://classics.mit.edu//Lao/taote.html
Translated by James Legge
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1. The Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging
Tao. The name that can be named is not the enduring and unchanging
2. (Conceived of as) having no name, it is the Originator of heaven
and earth; (conceived of as)M
 having a name, it is the Mother of all
3. Always without desire we must be found,
If its deep mystery we would sound;
But if desire always within us be,
Its outer fringe is all that we shall see.
4. Under these two aspects, it is really the same; but as development
takes place, it receives the different names. Together we call them
the Mystery. Where the Mystery is the deepest is the gate of all that
is subtle and wonderful.
1. All in the world know the beauty of the beautiful, and in dM
this they have (the idea of) what ugliness is; they all know the skill
of the skilful, and in doing this they have (the idea of) what the
2. So it is that existence and non-existence give birth the one to
(the idea of) the other; that difficulty and ease produce the one
(the idea of) the other; that length and shortness fashion out the
one the figure of the other; that (the ideas of) height and lowness
arise from the contrast of the one with the other; that the musical
notes and tones becomM
e harmonious through the relation of one with
another; and that being before and behind give the idea of one following
3. Therefore the sage manages affairs without doing anything, and
conveys his instructions without the use of speech.
4. All things spring up, and there is not one which declines to show
itself; they grow, and there is no claim made for their ownership;
they go through their processes, and there is no expectation (of a
reward for the results). The work is accomplished, and there is no
resting in it (as an achievement).
The work is done, but how no one can see;
'Tis this that makes the power not cease to be.
1. Not to value and employ men of superior ability is the way to keep
the people from rivalry among themselves; not to prize articles which
are difficult to procure is the way to keep them from becoming thieves;
not to show them what is likely to excite their desires is the way
to keep their minds from disorder.
2. Therefore the sage, in the exercise of his government, emptiM
their minds, fills their bellies, weakens their wills, and strengthens
3. He constantly (tries to) keep them without knowledge and without
desire, and where there are those who have knowledge, to keep them
from presuming to act (on it). When there is this abstinence from
action, good order is universal.
1. The Tao is (like) the emptiness of a vessel; and in our employment
of it we must be on our guard against all fulness. How deep and unfathomable
it is, as if it were the Honoured AncM
estor of all things!
2. We should blunt our sharp points, and unravel the complications
of things; we should attemper our brightness, and bring ourselves
into agreement with the obscurity of others. How pure and still the
Tao is, as if it would ever so continue!
3. I do not know whose son it is. It might appear to have been before
1. Heaven and earth do not act from (the impulse of) any wish to be
benevolent; they deal with all things as the dogs of grass are dealt
with. The sages do not act frM
om (any wish to be) benevolent; they
deal with the people as the dogs of grass are dealt with.
2. May not the space between heaven and earth be compared to a bellows?
'Tis emptied, yet it loses not its power;
'Tis moved again, and sends forth air the more.
Much speech to swift exhaustion lead we see;
Your inner being guard, and keep it free.
The valley spirit dies not, aye the same;
The female mystery thus do we name.
Its gate, from which at first they issued forth,
Is called the root from whicM
h grew heaven and earth.
Long and unbroken does its power remain,
Used gently, and without the touch of pain.
1. Heaven is long-enduring and earth continues long. The reason why
heaven and earth are able to endure and continue thus long is because
they do not live of, or for, themselves. This is how they are able
to continue and endure.
2. Therefore the sage puts his own person last, and yet it is found
in the foremost place; he treats his person as if it were foreign
to him, and yet that person isM
 preserved. Is it not because he has
no personal and private ends, that therefore such ends are realised?
1. The highest excellence is like (that of) water. The excellence
of water appears in its benefiting all things, and in its occupying,
without striving (to the contrary), the low place which all men dislike.
Hence (its way) is near to (that of) the Tao.
2. The excellence of a residence is in (the suitability of) the place;
that of the mind is in abysmal stillness; that of associations is
being with the virtuous; that of government is in its securing
good order; that of (the conduct of) affairs is in its ability; and
that of (the initiation of) any movement is in its timeliness.
3. And when (one with the highest excellence) does not wrangle (about
his low position), no one finds fault with him.
1. It is better to leave a vessel unfilled, than to attempt to carry
it when it is full. If you keep feeling a point that has been sharpened,
the point cannot long preserve its sharpness.
hen gold and jade fill the hall, their possessor cannot keep them
safe. When wealth and honours lead to arrogancy, this brings its evil
on itself. When the work is done, and one's name is becoming distinguished,
to withdraw into obscurity is the way of Heaven.
1. When the intelligent and animal souls are held together in one
embrace, they can be kept from separating. When one gives undivided
attention to the (vital) breath, and brings it to the utmost degree
of pliancy, he can become as a (tender) babM
e. When he has cleansed
away the most mysterious sights (of his imagination), he can become
2. In loving the people and ruling the state, cannot he proceed without
any (purpose of) action? In the opening and shutting of his gates
of heaven, cannot he do so as a female bird? While his intelligence
reaches in every direction, cannot he (appear to) be without knowledge?
3. (The Tao) produces (all things) and nourishes them; it produces
them and does not claim them as its own; it does all, and yet doM
not boast of it; it presides over all, and yet does not control them.
This is what is called 'The mysterious Quality' (of the Tao).
Chapter 11 The thirty spokes unite in the one nave; but it is on
the empty space (for the axle), that the use of the wheel depends.
Clay is fashioned into vessels; but it is on their empty hollowness,
that their use depends. The door and windows are cut out (from the
walls) to form an apartment; but it is on the empty space (within),
that its use depends. Therefore, what has a (posM
itive) existence serves
for profitable adaptation, and what has not that for (actual) usefulness.
1. Colour's five hues from th' eyes their sight will take;
Music's five notes the ears as deaf can make;
The flavours five deprive the mouth of taste;
The chariot course, and the wild hunting waste
Make mad the mind; and objects rare and strange,
Sought for, men's conduct will to evil change.
2. Therefore the sage seeks to satisfy (the craving of) the belly,
and not the (insatiable longing of the) eM
yes. He puts from him the
latter, and prefers to seek the former.
1. Favour and disgrace would seem equally to be feared; honour and
great calamity, to be regarded as personal conditions (of the same
2. What is meant by speaking thus of favour and disgrace? Disgrace
is being in a low position (after the enjoyment of favour). The getting
that (favour) leads to the apprehension (of losing it), and the losing
it leads to the fear of (still greater calamity):--this is what is
meant by saying thatM
 favour and disgrace would seem equally to be
feared. And what is meant by saying that honour and great calamity
are to be (similarly) regarded as personal conditions? What makes
me liable to great calamity is my having the body (which I call myself);
if I had not the body, what great calamity could come to me?
3. Therefore he who would administer the kingdom, honouring it as
he honours his own person, may be employed to govern it, and he who
would administer it with the love which he bears to his own person
e entrusted with it.
1. We look at it, and we do not see it, and we name it 'the Equable.'
We listen to it, and we do not hear it, and we name it 'the Inaudible.'
We try to grasp it, and do not get hold of it, and we name it 'the
Subtle.' With these three qualities, it cannot be made the subject
of description; and hence we blend them together and obtain The One.
2. Its upper part is not bright, and its lower part is not obscure.
Ceaseless in its action, it yet cannot be named, and then it again
rns and becomes nothing. This is called the Form of the Formless,
and the Semblance of the Invisible; this is called the Fleeting and
3. We meet it and do not see its Front; we follow it, and do not see
its Back. When we can lay hold of the Tao of old to direct the things
of the present day, and are able to know it as it was of old in the
beginning, this is called (unwinding) the clue of Tao.
1. The skilful masters (of the Tao) in old times, with a subtle and
exquisite penetration, cM
omprehended its mysteries, and were deep (also)
so as to elude men's knowledge. As they were thus beyond men's knowledge,
I will make an effort to describe of what sort they appeared to be.
2. Shrinking looked they like those who wade through a stream in winter;
irresolute like those who are afraid of all around them; grave like
a guest (in awe of his host); evanescent like ice that is melting
away; unpretentious like wood that has not been fashioned into anything;
vacant like a valley, and dull like muddy water. M
3. Who can (make) the muddy water (clear)? Let it be still, and it
will gradually become clear. Who can secure the condition of rest?
Let movement go on, and the condition of rest will gradually arise.
4. They who preserve this method of the Tao do not wish to be full
(of themselves). It is through their not being full of themselves
that they can afford to seem worn and not appear new and complete.
1. The (state of) vacancy should be brought to the utmost degree,
and that of stillness guarded with uM
nwearying vigour. All things alike
go through their processes of activity, and (then) we see them return
(to their original state). When things (in the vegetable world) have
displayed their luxuriant growth, we see each of them return to its
root. This returning to their root is what we call the state of stillness;
and that stillness may be called a reporting that they have fulfilled
their appointed end.
2. The report of that fulfilment is the regular, unchanging rule.
To know that unchanging rule is to be intellM
igent; not to know it
leads to wild movements and evil issues. The knowledge of that unchanging
rule produces a (grand) capacity and forbearance, and that capacity
and forbearance lead to a community (of feeling with all things).
From this community of feeling comes a kingliness of character; and
he who is king-like goes on to be heaven-like. In that likeness to
heaven he possesses the Tao. Possessed of the Tao, he endures long;
and to the end of his bodily life, is exempt from all danger of decay.
In the highest antiquity, (the people) did not know that there
were (their rulers). In the next age they loved them and praised them.
In the next they feared them; in the next they despised them. Thus
it was that when faith (in the Tao) was deficient (in the rulers)
a want of faith in them ensued (in the people).
2. How irresolute did those (earliest rulers) appear, showing (by
their reticence) the importance which they set upon their words! Their
work was done and their undertakings were successful, while the peM
all said, 'We are as we are, of ourselves!'
1. When the Great Tao (Way or Method) ceased to be observed, benevolence
and righteousness came into vogue. (Then) appeared wisdom and shrewdness,
and there ensued great hypocrisy.
2. When harmony no longer prevailed throughout the six kinships, filial
sons found their manifestation; when the states and clans fell into
disorder, loyal ministers appeared.
1. If we could renounce our sageness and discard our wisdom, it would
the people a hundredfold. If we could renounce our benevolence
and discard our righteousness, the people would again become filial
and kindly. If we could renounce our artful contrivances and discard
our (scheming for) gain, there would be no thieves nor robbers.
2. Those three methods (of government)
Thought olden ways in elegance did fail
And made these names their want of worth to veil;
But simple views, and courses plain and true
Would selfish ends and many lusts eschew.
1. When we renounce lM
earning we have no troubles.
The (ready) 'yes,' and (flattering) 'yea;'--
Small is the difference they display.
But mark their issues, good and ill;--
What space the gulf between shall fill? What all men fear is indeed
to be feared; but how wide and without end is the range of questions
(asking to be discussed)!
2. The multitude of men look satisfied and pleased; as if enjoying
a full banquet, as if mounted on a tower in spring. I alone seem listless
and still, my desires having as yet given no indication of M
I am like an infant which has not yet smiled. I look dejected and
forlorn, as if I had no home to go to. The multitude of men all have
enough and to spare. I alone seem to have lost everything. My mind
is that of a stupid man; I am in a state of chaos. Ordinary men look
bright and intelligent, while I alone seem to be benighted. They look
full of discrimination, while I alone am dull and confused. I seem
to be carried about as on the sea, drifting as if I had nowhere to
rest. All men have their spheM
res of action, while I alone seem dull
and incapable, like a rude borderer. (Thus) I alone am different from
other men, but I value the nursing-mother (the Tao).
The grandest forms of active force
From Tao come, their only source.
Who can of Tao the nature tell?
Our sight it flies, our touch as well.
Eluding sight, eluding touch,
The forms of things all in it crouch;
Eluding touch, eluding sight,
There are their semblances, all right.
Profound it is, dark and obscure;
Things' essences all theM
Those essences the truth enfold
Of what, when seen, shall then be told.
Now it is so; 'twas so of old.
Its name--what passes not away;
So, in their beautiful array,
Things form and never know decay.
How know I that it is so with all the beauties of existing things?
By this (nature of the Tao).
1. The partial becomes complete; the crooked, straight; the empty,
full; the worn out, new. He whose (desires) are few gets them; he
whose (desires) are many goes astray.
2. Therefore the saM
ge holds in his embrace the one thing (of humility),
and manifests it to all the world. He is free from self- display,
and therefore he shines; from self-assertion, and therefore he is
distinguished; from self-boasting, and therefore his merit is acknowledged;
from self-complacency, and therefore he acquires superiority. It is
because he is thus free from striving that therefore no one in the
world is able to strive with him.
3. That saying of the ancients that 'the partial becomes complete'
was not vainly spokenM
:--all real completion is comprehended under
1. Abstaining from speech marks him who is obeying the spontaneity
of his nature. A violent wind does not last for a whole morning; a
sudden rain does not last for the whole day. To whom is it that these
(two) things are owing? To Heaven and Earth. If Heaven and Earth cannot
make such (spasmodic) actings last long, how much less can man!
2. Therefore when one is making the Tao his business, those who are
also pursuing it, agree with him in it, and thosM
e who are making the
manifestation of its course their object agree with him in that; while
even those who are failing in both these things agree with him where
3. Hence, those with whom he agrees as to the Tao have the happiness
of attaining to it; those with whom he agrees as to its manifestation
have the happiness of attaining to it; and those with whom he agrees
in their failure have also the happiness of attaining (to the Tao).
(But) when there is not faith sufficient (on his part), a want of
h (in him) ensues (on the part of the others).
He who stands on his tiptoes does not stand firm; he who stretches
his legs does not walk (easily). (So), he who displays himself does
not shine; he who asserts his own views is not distinguished; he who
vaunts himself does not find his merit acknowledged; he who is self-
conceited has no superiority allowed to him. Such conditions, viewed
from the standpoint of the Tao, are like remnants of food, or a tumour
on the body, which all dislike. Hence those whM
o pursue (the course)
of the Tao do not adopt and allow them.
1. There was something undefined and complete, coming into existence
before Heaven and Earth. How still it was and formless, standing alone,
and undergoing no change, reaching everywhere and in no danger (of
being exhausted)! It may be regarded as the Mother of all things.
2. I do not know its name, and I give it the designation of the Tao
(the Way or Course). Making an effort (further) to give it a name
I call it The Great.
 passes on (in constant flow). Passing on, it becomes
remote. Having become remote, it returns. Therefore the Tao is great;
Heaven is great; Earth is great; and the (sage) king is also great.
In the universe there are four that are great, and the (sage) king
4. Man takes his law from the Earth; the Earth takes its law from
Heaven; Heaven takes its law from the Tao. The law of the Tao is its
1. Gravity is the root of lightness; stillness, the ruler of movement.
herefore a wise prince, marching the whole day, does not go far
from his baggage waggons. Although he may have brilliant prospects
to look at, he quietly remains (in his proper place), indifferent
to them. How should the lord of a myriad chariots carry himself lightly
before the kingdom? If he do act lightly, he has lost his root (of
gravity); if he proceed to active movement, he will lose his throne.
1. The skilful traveller leaves no traces of his wheels or footsteps;
the skilful speaker says nothingM
 that can be found fault with or blamed;
the skilful reckoner uses no tallies; the skilful closer needs no
bolts or bars, while to open what he has shut will be impossible;
the skilful binder uses no strings or knots, while to unloose what
he has bound will be impossible. In the same way the sage is always
skilful at saving men, and so he does not cast away any man; he is
always skilful at saving things, and so he does not cast away anything.
This is called 'Hiding the light of his procedure.'
2. Therefore the maM
n of skill is a master (to be looked up to) by
him who has not the skill; and he who has not the skill is the helper
of (the reputation of) him who has the skill. If the one did not honour
his master, and the other did not rejoice in his helper, an (observer),
though intelligent, might greatly err about them. This is called 'The
utmost degree of mystery.'
1. Who knows his manhood's strength,
Yet still his female feebleness maintains;
As to one channel flow the many drains,
All come to him, yea, allM
Thus he the constant excellence retains;
The simple child again, free from all stains.
Who knows how white attracts,
Yet always keeps himself within black's shade,
The pattern of humility displayed,
Displayed in view of all beneath the sky;
He in the unchanging excellence arrayed,
Endless return to man's first state has made.
Who knows how glory shines,
Yet loves disgrace, nor e'er for it is pale;
Behold his presence in a spacious vale,
To which men come from all beneath the sky.
e unchanging excellence completes its tale;
The simple infant man in him we hail.
2. The unwrought material, when divided and distributed, forms vessels.
The sage, when employed, becomes the Head of all the Officers (of
government); and in his greatest regulations he employs no violent
1. If any one should wish to get the kingdom for himself, and to effect
this by what he does, I see that he will not succeed. The kingdom
is a spirit-like thing, and cannot be got by active doing. He who
uld so win it destroys it; he who would hold it in his grasp loses
2. The course and nature of things is such that
What was in front is now behind;
What warmed anon we freezing find.
Strength is of weakness oft the spoil;
The store in ruins mocks our toil. Hence the sage puts away excessive
effort, extravagance, and easy indulgence.
1. He who would assist a lord of men in harmony with the Tao will
not assert his mastery in the kingdom by force of arms. Such a course
is sure to meet with its M
2. Wherever a host is stationed, briars and thorns spring up. In the
sequence of great armies there are sure to be bad years.
3. A skilful (commander) strikes a decisive blow, and stops. He does
not dare (by continuing his operations) to assert and complete his
mastery. He will strike the blow, but will be on his guard against
being vain or boastful or arrogant in consequence of it. He strikes
it as a matter of necessity; he strikes it, but not from a wish for
4. When things have attainM
ed their strong maturity they become old.
This may be said to be not in accordance with the Tao: and what is
not in accordance with it soon comes to an end.
1. Now arms, however beautiful, are instruments of evil omen, hateful,
it may be said, to all creatures. Therefore they who have the Tao
do not like to employ them.
2. The superior man ordinarily considers the left hand the most honourable
place, but in time of war the right hand. Those sharp weapons are
instruments of evil omen, and not the insM
truments of the superior
man;--he uses them only on the compulsion of necessity. Calm and repose
are what he prizes; victory (by force of arms) is to him undesirable.
To consider this desirable would be to delight in the slaughter of
men; and he who delights in the slaughter of men cannot get his will
3. On occasions of festivity to be on the left hand is the prized
position; on occasions of mourning, the right hand. The second in
command of the army has his place on the left; the general commandiM
in chief has his on the right;--his place, that is, is assigned to
him as in the rites of mourning. He who has killed multitudes of men
should weep for them with the bitterest grief; and the victor in battle
has his place (rightly) according to those rites.
1. The Tao, considered as unchanging, has no name.
2. Though in its primordial simplicity it may be small, the whole
world dares not deal with (one embodying) it as a minister. If a feudal
prince or the king could guard and hold it, all would M
submit themselves to him.
3. Heaven and Earth (under its guidance) unite together and send down
the sweet dew, which, without the directions of men, reaches equally
everywhere as of its own accord.
4. As soon as it proceeds to action, it has a name. When it once has
that name, (men) can know to rest in it. When they know to rest in
it, they can be free from all risk of failure and error.
5. The relation of the Tao to all the world is like that of the great
rivers and seas to the streams from the M
1. He who knows other men is discerning; he who knows himself is intelligent.
He who overcomes others is strong; he who overcomes himself is mighty.
He who is satisfied with his lot is rich; he who goes on acting with
energy has a (firm) will.
2. He who does not fail in the requirements of his position, continues
long; he who dies and yet does not perish, has longevity.
1. All-pervading is the Great Tao! It may be found on the left hand
2. All things depend M
on it for their production, which it gives to
them, not one refusing obedience to it. When its work is accomplished,
it does not claim the name of having done it. It clothes all things
as with a garment, and makes no assumption of being their lord;--it
may be named in the smallest things. All things return (to their root
and disappear), and do not know that it is it which presides over
their doing so;--it may be named in the greatest things.
3. Hence the sage is able (in the same way) to accomplish his great
vements. It is through his not making himself great that he can
1. To him who holds in his hands the Great Image (of the invisible
Tao), the whole world repairs. Men resort to him, and receive no hurt,
but (find) rest, peace, and the feeling of ease.
2. Music and dainties will make the passing guest stop (for a time).
But though the Tao as it comes from the mouth, seems insipid and has
no flavour, though it seems not worth being looked at or listened
to, the use of it is inexhaustibM
1. When one is about to take an inspiration, he is sure to make a
(previous) expiration; when he is going to weaken another, he will
first strengthen him; when he is going to overthrow another, he will
first have raised him up; when he is going to despoil another, he
will first have made gifts to him:--this is called 'Hiding the light
(of his procedure).'
2. The soft overcomes the hard; and the weak the strong.
3. Fishes should not be taken from the deep; instruments for the profit
hould not be shown to the people.
1. The Tao in its regular course does nothing (for the sake of doing
it), and so there is nothing which it does not do.
2. If princes and kings were able to maintain it, all things would
of themselves be transformed by them.
3. If this transformation became to me an object of desire, I would
express the desire by the nameless simplicity.
Simplicity without a name
Is free from all external aim.
With no desire, at rest and still,
All things go right as of theirM
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1. (Those who) possessed in highest degree the attributes (of the
Tao) did not (seek) to show them, and therefore they possessed them
(in fullest measure). (Those who) possessed in a lower degree those
attributes (sought how) not to lose them, and therefore they did not
possess them (in fullest measure).
2. (Those who) possessed in the highest degree those attributes did
nothing (with a purpose), and had no needM
 to do anything. (Those who)
possessed them in a lower degree were (always) doing, and had need
3. (Those who) possessed the highest benevolence were (always seeking)
to carry it out, and had no need to be doing so. (Those who) possessed
the highest righteousness were (always seeking) to carry it out, and
had need to be so doing.
4. (Those who) possessed the highest (sense of) propriety were (always
seeking) to show it, and when men did not respond to it, they bared
the arm and marched up to theM
5. Thus it was that when the Tao was lost, its attributes appeared;
when its attributes were lost, benevolence appeared; when benevolence
was lost, righteousness appeared; and when righteousness was lost,
the proprieties appeared.
6. Now propriety is the attenuated form of leal-heartedness and good
faith, and is also the commencement of disorder; swift apprehension
is (only) a flower of the Tao, and is the beginning of stupidity.
7. Thus it is that the Great man abides by what is solid, and eschews
flimsy; dwells with the fruit and not with the flower. It
is thus that he puts away the one and makes choice of the other.
1. The things which from of old have got the One (the Tao) are--
Heaven which by it is bright and pure;
Earth rendered thereby firm and sure;
Spirits with powers by it supplied;
Valleys kept full throughout their void
All creatures which through it do live
Princes and kings who from it get
The model which to all they give. All these are the results of the
heaven were not thus pure, it soon would rend;
If earth were not thus sure, 'twould break and bend;
Without these powers, the spirits soon would fail;
If not so filled, the drought would parch each vale;
Without that life, creatures would pass away;
Princes and kings, without that moral sway,
However grand and high, would all decay.
3. Thus it is that dignity finds its (firm) root in its (previous)
meanness, and what is lofty finds its stability in the lowness (from
which it rises). Hence princes and kings M
call themselves 'Orphans,'
'Men of small virtue,' and as 'Carriages without a nave.' Is not this
an acknowledgment that in their considering themselves mean they see
the foundation of their dignity? So it is that in the enumeration
of the different parts of a carriage we do not come on what makes
it answer the ends of a carriage. They do not wish to show themselves
elegant-looking as jade, but (prefer) to be coarse-looking as an (ordinary)
1. The movement of the Tao
By contraries proceeds;
d weakness marks the course
Of Tao's mighty deeds.
2. All things under heaven sprang from It as existing (and named);
that existence sprang from It as non-existent (and not named).
1. Scholars of the highest class, when they hear about the Tao, earnestly
carry it into practice. Scholars of the middle class, when they have
heard about it, seem now to keep it and now to lose it. Scholars of
the lowest class, when they have heard about it, laugh greatly at
it. If it were not (thus) laughed at, it wouldM
 not be fit to be the
2. Therefore the sentence-makers have thus expressed themselves:--
'The Tao, when brightest seen, seems light to lack;
Who progress in it makes, seems drawing back;
Its even way is like a rugged track.
Its highest virtue from the vale doth rise;
Its greatest beauty seems to offend the eyes;
And he has most whose lot the least supplies.
Its firmest virtue seems but poor and low;
Its solid truth seems change to undergo;
Its largest square doth yet no corner show
it is the slowest made;
Loud is its sound, but never word it said;
A semblance great, the shadow of a shade.'
3. The Tao is hidden, and has no name; but it is the Tao which is
skilful at imparting (to all things what they need) and making them
1. The Tao produced One; One produced Two; Two produced Three; Three
produced All things. All things leave behind them the Obscurity (out
of which they have come), and go forward to embrace the Brightness
(into which they have emerged), while they M
are harmonised by the Breath
2. What men dislike is to be orphans, to have little virtue, to be
as carriages without naves; and yet these are the designations which
kings and princes use for themselves. So it is that some things are
increased by being diminished, and others are diminished by being
3. What other men (thus) teach, I also teach. The violent and strong
do not die their natural death. I will make this the basis of my teaching.
1. The softest thing in the world dasM
hes against and overcomes the
hardest; that which has no (substantial) existence enters where there
is no crevice. I know hereby what advantage belongs to doing nothing
2. There are few in the world who attain to the teaching without words,
and the advantage arising from non-action.
1. Or fame or life,
Which do you hold more dear?
To which would you adhere?
Keep life and lose those other things;
Keep them and lose your life:--which brings
2. Thus we may see,
Who cleaves to fame
Rejects what is more great;
Who loves large stores
Gives up the richer state.
Needs fear no shame.
Long live shall he.
1. Who thinks his great achievements poor
Shall find his vigour long endure.
Of greatest fulness, deemed a void,
Exhaustion ne'er shall stem the tide.
Do thou what's straight still crooked deem;
Thy greatest art still stupid seem,
2. Constant action overcomes cold; being still overcomes heat. Purity
and stillness give the correct law to all under heaven.
1. When the Tao prevails in the world, they send back their swift
horses to (draw) the dung-carts. When the Tao is disregarded in the
world, the war-horses breed in the border lands.
2. There is no guilt greater than to sanction ambition; no calamity
greater than to be discontented with one's lot; no fault greater than
the wish to be getting. Therefore the M
sufficiency of contentment is
an enduring and unchanging sufficiency.
1. Without going outside his door, one understands (all that takes
place) under the sky; without looking out from his window, one sees
the Tao of Heaven. The farther that one goes out (from himself), the
2. Therefore the sages got their knowledge without travelling; gave
their (right) names to things without seeing them; and accomplished
their ends without any purpose of doing so.
1. He who devotes himM
self to learning (seeks) from day to day to increase
(his knowledge); he who devotes himself to the Tao (seeks) from day
to day to diminish (his doing).
2. He diminishes it and again diminishes it, till he arrives at doing
nothing (on purpose). Having arrived at this point of non-action,
there is nothing which he does not do.
3. He who gets as his own all under heaven does so by giving himself
no trouble (with that end). If one take trouble (with that end), he
is not equal to getting as his own all under heavenM
1. The sage has no invariable mind of his own; he makes the mind of
the people his mind.
2. To those who are good (to me), I am good; and to those who are
not good (to me), I am also good;--and thus (all) get to be good.
To those who are sincere (with me), I am sincere; and to those who
are not sincere (with me), I am also sincere;--and thus (all) get
3. The sage has in the world an appearance of indecision, and keeps
his mind in a state of indifference to all. The people all keepM
eyes and ears directed to him, and he deals with them all as his children.
1. Men come forth and live; they enter (again) and die.
2. Of every ten three are ministers of life (to themselves); and three
are ministers of death.
3. There are also three in every ten whose aim is to live, but whose
movements tend to the land (or place) of death. And for what reason?
Because of their excessive endeavours to perpetuate life.
4. But I have heard that he who is skilful in managing the life entrustedM
to him for a time travels on the land without having to shun rhinoceros
or tiger, and enters a host without having to avoid buff coat or sharp
weapon. The rhinoceros finds no place in him into which to thrust
its horn, nor the tiger a place in which to fix its claws, nor the
weapon a place to admit its point. And for what reason? Because there
is in him no place of death.
1. All things are produced by the Tao, and nourished by its outflowing
operation. They receive their forms according to the natureM
and are completed according to the circumstances of their condition.
Therefore all things without exception honour the Tao, and exalt its
outflowing operation.
2. This honouring of the Tao and exalting of its operation is not
the result of any ordination, but always a spontaneous tribute.
3. Thus it is that the Tao produces (all things), nourishes them,
brings them to their full growth, nurses them, completes them, matures
them, maintains them, and overspreads them.
4. It produces them and makes no cM
laim to the possession of them;
it carries them through their processes and does not vaunt its ability
in doing so; it brings them to maturity and exercises no control over
them;--this is called its mysterious operation.
1. (The Tao) which originated all under the sky is to be considered
as the mother of them all.
2. When the mother is found, we know what her children should be.
When one knows that he is his mother's child, and proceeds to guard
(the qualities of) the mother that belong to him, to tM
life he will be free from all peril.
3. Let him keep his mouth closed, and shut up the portals (of his
nostrils), and all his life he will be exempt from laborious exertion.
Let him keep his mouth open, and (spend his breath) in the promotion
of his affairs, and all his life there will be no safety for him.
4. The perception of what is small is (the secret of clear- sightedness;
the guarding of what is soft and tender is (the secret of) strength.
5. Who uses well his light,
Reverting to its (sourM
Will from his body ward all blight,
And hides the unchanging from men's sight.
1. If I were suddenly to become known, and (put into a position to)
conduct (a government) according to the Great Tao, what I should be
most afraid of would be a boastful display.
2. The great Tao (or way) is very level and easy; but people love
3. Their court(-yards and buildings) shall be well kept, but their
fields shall be ill-cultivated, and their granaries very empty. They
elegant and ornamented robes, carry a sharp sword at their
girdle, pamper themselves in eating and drinking, and have a superabundance
of property and wealth;--such (princes) may be called robbers and
boasters. This is contrary to the Tao surely!
1. What (Tao's) skilful planter plants
Can never be uptorn;
What his skilful arms enfold,
From him can ne'er be borne.
Sons shall bring in lengthening line,
Sacrifices to his shrine.
2. Tao when nursed within one's self,
His vigour will make true;
d where the family it rules
What riches will accrue!
The neighbourhood where it prevails
In thriving will abound;
And when 'tis seen throughout the state,
Good fortune will be found.
Employ it the kingdom o'er,
And men thrive all around.
3. In this way the effect will be seen in the person, by the observation
of different cases; in the family; in the neighbourhood; in the state;
and in the kingdom.
4. How do I know that this effect is sure to hold thus all under the
sky? By this (method of observation). M
1. He who has in himself abundantly the attributes (of the Tao) is
like an infant. Poisonous insects will not sting him; fierce beasts
will not seize him; birds of prey will not strike him.
2. (The infant's) bones are weak and its sinews soft, but yet its
grasp is firm. It knows not yet the union of male and female, and
yet its virile member may be excited;--showing the perfection of its
physical essence. All day long it will cry without its throat becoming
hoarse;--showing the harmony (in its constM
3. To him by whom this harmony is known,
(The secret of) the unchanging (Tao) is shown,
And in the knowledge wisdom finds its throne.
All life-increasing arts to evil turn;
Where the mind makes the vital breath to burn,
(False) is the strength, (and o'er it we should mourn.)
4. When things have become strong, they (then) become old, which may
be said to be contrary to the Tao. Whatever is contrary to the Tao
1. He who knows (the Tao) does not (care to) speak (about it); hM
who is (ever ready to) speak about it does not know it.
2. He (who knows it) will keep his mouth shut and close the portals
(of his nostrils). He will blunt his sharp points and unravel the
complications of things; he will attemper his brightness, and bring
himself into agreement with the obscurity (of others). This is called
'the Mysterious Agreement.'
3. (Such an one) cannot be treated familiarly or distantly; he is
beyond all consideration of profit or injury; of nobility or meanness:--he
1. A state may be ruled by (measures of) correction; weapons of war
may be used with crafty dexterity; (but) the kingdom is made one's
own (only) by freedom from action and purpose.
2. How do I know that it is so? By these facts:--In the kingdom the
multiplication of prohibitive enactments increases the poverty of
the people; the more implements to add to their profit that the people
have, the greater disorder is there in the state and clan; the more
acts of crafty dexterity that menM
 possess, the more do strange contrivances
appear; the more display there is of legislation, the more thieves
and robbers there are.
3. Therefore a sage has said, 'I will do nothing (of purpose), and
the people will be transformed of themselves; I will be fond of keeping
still, and the people will of themselves become correct. I will take
no trouble about it, and the people will of themselves become rich;
I will manifest no ambition, and the people will of themselves attain
to the primitive simplicity.'
1. The government that seems the most unwise,
Oft goodness to the people best supplies;
That which is meddling, touching everything,
Will work but ill, and disappointment bring. Misery!--happiness is
to be found by its side! Happiness!--misery lurks beneath it! Who
knows what either will come to in the end?
2. Shall we then dispense with correction? The (method of) correction
shall by a turn become distortion, and the good in it shall by a turn
become evil. The delusion of the people (on this point) has iM
subsisted for a long time.
3. Therefore the sage is (like) a square which cuts no one (with its
angles); (like) a corner which injures no one (with its sharpness).
He is straightforward, but allows himself no license; he is bright,
but does not dazzle.
1. For regulating the human (in our constitution) and rendering the
(proper) service to the heavenly, there is nothing like moderation.
2. It is only by this moderation that there is effected an early return
(to man's normal state). That early M
return is what I call the repeated
accumulation of the attributes (of the Tao). With that repeated accumulation
of those attributes, there comes the subjugation (of every obstacle
to such return). Of this subjugation we know not what shall be the
limit; and when one knows not what the limit shall be, he may be the
3. He who possesses the mother of the state may continue long. His
case is like that (of the plant) of which we say that its roots are
deep and its flower stalks firm:--this is the wayM
enduring life shall long be seen.
1. Governing a great state is like cooking small fish.
2. Let the kingdom be governed according to the Tao, and the manes
of the departed will not manifest their spiritual energy. It is not
that those manes have not that spiritual energy, but it will not be
employed to hurt men. It is not that it could not hurt men, but neither
does the ruling sage hurt them.
3. When these two do not injuriously affect each other, their good
influences convergeM
 in the virtue (of the Tao).
1. What makes a great state is its being (like) a low-lying, down-
flowing (stream);--it becomes the centre to which tend (all the small
states) under heaven.
2. (To illustrate from) the case of all females:--the female always
overcomes the male by her stillness. Stillness may be considered (a
sort of) abasement.
3. Thus it is that a great state, by condescending to small states,
gains them for itself; and that small states, by abasing themselves
to a great state, win M
it over to them. In the one case the abasement
leads to gaining adherents, in the other case to procuring favour.
4. The great state only wishes to unite men together and nourish them;
a small state only wishes to be received by, and to serve, the other.
Each gets what it desires, but the great state must learn to abase
1. Tao has of all things the most honoured place.
No treasures give good men so rich a grace;
Bad men it guards, and doth their ill efface.
2. (Its) admirable words can puM
rchase honour; (its) admirable deeds
can raise their performer above others. Even men who are not good
are not abandoned by it.
3. Therefore when the sovereign occupies his place as the Son of Heaven,
and he has appointed his three ducal ministers, though (a prince)
were to send in a round symbol-of-rank large enough to fill both the
hands, and that as the precursor of the team of horses (in the court-yard),
such an offering would not be equal to (a lesson of) this Tao, which
one might present on his knees.
Why was it that the ancients prized this Tao so much? Was it not
because it could be got by seeking for it, and the guilty could escape
(from the stain of their guilt) by it? This is the reason why all
under heaven consider it the most valuable thing.
1. (It is the way of the Tao) to act without (thinking of) acting;
to conduct affairs without (feeling the) trouble of them; to taste
without discerning any flavour; to consider what is small as great,
and a few as many; and to recompense injury with kinM
2. (The master of it) anticipates things that are difficult while
they are easy, and does things that would become great while they
are small. All difficult things in the world are sure to arise from
a previous state in which they were easy, and all great things from
one in which they were small. Therefore the sage, while he never does
what is great, is able on that account to accomplish the greatest
3. He who lightly promises is sure to keep but little faith; he who
is continually thinking thingsM
 easy is sure to find them difficult.
Therefore the sage sees difficulty even in what seems easy, and so
never has any difficulties.
1. That which is at rest is easily kept hold of; before a thing has
given indications of its presence, it is easy to take measures against
it; that which is brittle is easily broken; that which is very small
is easily dispersed. Action should be taken before a thing has made
its appearance; order should be secured before disorder has begun.
2. The tree which fills the aM
rms grew from the tiniest sprout; the
tower of nine storeys rose from a (small) heap of earth; the journey
of a thousand li commenced with a single step.
3. He who acts (with an ulterior purpose) does harm; he who takes
hold of a thing (in the same way) loses his hold. The sage does not
act (so), and therefore does no harm; he does not lay hold (so), and
therefore does not lose his bold. (But) people in their conduct of
affairs are constantly ruining them when they are on the eve of success.
If they were careful M
at the end, as (they should be) at the beginning,
they would not so ruin them.
4. Therefore the sage desires what (other men) do not desire, and
does not prize things difficult to get; he learns what (other men)
do not learn, and turns back to what the multitude of men have passed
by. Thus he helps the natural development of all things, and does
not dare to act (with an ulterior purpose of his own).
1. The ancients who showed their skill in practising the Tao did so,
not to enlighten the people, butM
 rather to make them simple and ignorant.
2. The difficulty in governing the people arises from their having
much knowledge. He who (tries to) govern a state by his wisdom is
a scourge to it; while he who does not (try to) do so is a blessing.
3. He who knows these two things finds in them also his model and
rule. Ability to know this model and rule constitutes what we call
the mysterious excellence (of a governor). Deep and far-reaching is
such mysterious excellence, showing indeed its possessor as opposite
thers, but leading them to a great conformity to him.
1. That whereby the rivers and seas are able to receive the homage
and tribute of all the valley streams, is their skill in being lower
than they;--it is thus that they are the kings of them all. So it
is that the sage (ruler), wishing to be above men, puts himself by
his words below them, and, wishing to be before them, places his person
2. In this way though he has his place above them, men do not feel
his weight, nor though he has M
his place before them, do they feel
it an injury to them.
3. Therefore all in the world delight to exalt him and do not weary
of him. Because he does not strive, no one finds it possible to strive
1. All the world says that, while my Tao is great, it yet appears
to be inferior (to other systems of teaching).  Now it is just its
greatness that makes it seem to be inferior. If it were like any other
(system), for long would its smallness have been known!
2. But I have three precious thingsM
 which I prize and hold fast. The
first is gentleness; the second is economy; and the third is shrinking
from taking precedence of others.
3. With that gentleness I can be bold; with that economy I can be
liberal; shrinking from taking precedence of others, I can become
a vessel of the highest honour. Now-a-days they give up gentleness
and are all for being bold; economy, and are all for being liberal;
the hindmost place, and seek only to be foremost;--(of all which the
4. Gentleness is sure to bM
e victorious even in battle, and firmly
to maintain its ground. Heaven will save its possessor, by his (very)
gentleness protecting him.
He who in (Tao's) wars has skill
Assumes no martial port;
He who fights with most good will
To rage makes no resort.
He who vanquishes yet still
Keeps from his foes apart;
He whose hests men most fulfil
Yet humbly plies his art.
Thus we say, 'He ne'er contends,
And therein is his might.'
Thus we say, 'Men's wills he bends,
That they with him unite.'
 we say, 'Like Heaven's his ends,
No sage of old more bright.'
1. A master of the art of war has said, 'I do not dare to be the host
(to commence the war); I prefer to be the guest (to act on the defensive).
I do not dare to advance an inch; I prefer to retire a foot.' This
is called marshalling the ranks where there are no ranks; baring the
arms (to fight) where there are no arms to bare; grasping the weapon
where there is no weapon to grasp; advancing against the enemy where
 There is no calamity greater than lightly engaging in war. To do
that is near losing (the gentleness) which is so precious. Thus it
is that when opposing weapons are (actually) crossed, he who deplores
(the situation) conquers.
1. My words are very easy to know, and very easy to practise; but
there is no one in the world who is able to know and able to practise
2. There is an originating and all-comprehending (principle) in my
words, and an authoritative law for the things (which I enforce).
It is because they do not know these, that men do not know me.
3. They who know me are few, and I am on that account (the more) to
be prized. It is thus that the sage wears (a poor garb of) hair cloth,
while he carries his (signet of) jade in his bosom.
1. To know and yet (think) we do not know is the highest (attainment);
not to know (and yet think) we do know is a disease.
2. It is simply by being pained at (the thought of) having this disease
that we are preserved from it. The sage has not the dM
the pain that would be inseparable from it, and therefore he does
1. When the people do not fear what they ought to fear, that which
is their great dread will come on them.
2. Let them not thoughtlessly indulge themselves in their ordinary
life; let them not act as if weary of what that life depends on.
3. It is by avoiding such indulgence that such weariness does not
4. Therefore the sage knows (these things) of himself, but does not
parade (his knowledge); lM
oves, but does not (appear to set a) value
on, himself. And thus he puts the latter alternative away and makes
choice of the former.
1. He whose boldness appears in his daring (to do wrong, in defiance
of the laws) is put to death; he whose boldness appears in his not
daring (to do so) lives on. Of these two cases the one appears to
be advantageous, and the other to be injurious. But
When Heaven's anger smites a man,
Who the cause shall truly scan? On this account the sage feels a difficulty
 what to do in the former case).
2. It is the way of Heaven not to strive, and yet it skilfully overcomes;
not to speak, and yet it is skilful in (obtaining a reply; does not
call, and yet men come to it of themselves. Its demonstrations are
quiet, and yet its plans are skilful and effective. The meshes of
the net of Heaven are large; far apart, but letting nothing escape.
1. The people do not fear death; to what purpose is it to (try to)
frighten them with death? If the people were always in awe of M
and I could always seize those who do wrong, and put them to death,
who would dare to do wrong?
2. There is always One who presides over the infliction death. He
who would inflict death in the room of him who so presides over it
may be described as hewing wood instead of a great carpenter. Seldom
is it that he who undertakes the hewing, instead of the great carpenter,
does not cut his own hands!
1. The people suffer from famine because of the multitude of taxes
consumed by their superiors. ItM
 is through this that they suffer famine.
2. The people are difficult to govern because of the (excessive) agency
of their superiors (in governing them). It is through this that they
are difficult to govern.
3. The people make light of dying because of the greatness of their
labours in seeking for the means of living. It is this which makes
them think light of dying. Thus it is that to leave the subject of
living altogether out of view is better than to set a high value on
1. Man at his birth iM
s supple and weak; at his death, firm and strong.
(So it is with) all things. Trees and plants, in their early growth,
are soft and brittle; at their death, dry and withered.
2. Thus it is that firmness and strength are the concomitants of death;
softness and weakness, the concomitants of life.
3. Hence he who (relies on) the strength of his forces does not conquer;
and a tree which is strong will fill the out-stretched arms, (and
thereby invites the feller.)
4. Therefore the place of what is firm and strong M
of what is soft and weak is above.
1. May not the Way (or Tao) of Heaven be compared to the (method of)
bending a bow? The (part of the bow) which was high is brought low,
and what was low is raised up. (So Heaven) diminishes where there
is superabundance, and supplements where there is deficiency.
2. It is the Way of Heaven to diminish superabundance, and to supplement
deficiency. It is not so with the way of man. He takes away from those
who have not enough to add to his own supeM
3. Who can take his own superabundance and therewith serve all under
heaven? Only he who is in possession of the Tao!
4. Therefore the (ruling) sage acts without claiming the results as
his; he achieves his merit and does not rest (arrogantly) in it:--he
does not wish to display his superiority.
1. There is nothing in the world more soft and weak than water, and
yet for attacking things that are firm and strong there is nothing
that can take precedence of it;--for there is nothing (so M
for which it can be changed.
2. Every one in the world knows that the soft overcomes the hard,
and the weak the strong, but no one is able to carry it out in practice.
3. Therefore a sage has said,
'He who accepts his state's reproach,
Is hailed therefore its altars' lord;
To him who bears men's direful woes
They all the name of King accord.'
4. Words that are strictly true seem to be paradoxical.
1. When a reconciliation is effected (between two parties) after a
here is sure to be a grudge remaining (in the mind
of the one who was wrong). And how can this be beneficial (to the
2. Therefore (to guard against this), the sage keeps the left-hand
portion of the record of the engagement, and does not insist on the
(speedy) fulfilment of it by the other party. (So), he who has the
attributes (of the Tao) regards (only) the conditions of the engagement,
while he who has not those attributes regards only the conditions
favourable to himself.
3. In the Way of Heaven, thM
ere is no partiality of love; it is always
on the side of the good man.
1. In a little state with a small population, I would so order it,
that, though there were individuals with the abilities of ten or a
hundred men, there should be no employment of them; I would make the
people, while looking on death as a grievous thing, yet not remove
elsewhere (to avoid it).
2. Though they had boats and carriages, they should have no occasion
to ride in them; though they had buff coats and sharp weapons, they
should have no occasion to don or use them.
3. I would make the people return to the use of knotted cords (instead
of the written characters).
4. They should think their (coarse) food sweet; their (plain) clothes
beautiful; their (poor) dwellings places of rest; and their common
(simple) ways sources of enjoyment.
5. There should be a neighbouring state within sight, and the voices
of the fowls and dogs should be heard all the way from it to us, but
I would make the people to old age, even to death, not have M
1. Sincere words are not fine; fine words are not sincere. Those who
are skilled (in the Tao) do not dispute (about it); the disputatious
are not skilled in it. Those who know (the Tao) are not extensively
learned; the extensively learned do not know it.
2. The sage does not accumulate (for himself). The more that he expends
for others, the more does he possess of his own; the more that he
gives to others, the more does he have himself.
3. With all the sharpness of the WayM
 of Heaven, it injures not; with
all the doing in the way of the sage he does not strive.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
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TAG                                                                                              Edison National Historic Site
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"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""(
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
/ViaBTC/Mined by baza01/,
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al Creatures 100/100
@OrdCreatures on Twitter
https://twitter.com/OrdCreatures
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Ordinal Creatures Inscription IDs:
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{"Ordinal Creatures": "04M
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text/html;charset=utf-8
			border: 3px solid #1b1a1b;
			border-style: dotted dashed solid double;
			background-color:rgb(255, 255, 255);
		<div id="mainDiv" class="absolute">
		<p><span id="flag"><span></p>
		<input type="hidden" id="flagid" value="">
		<p id="ordinalID"></p>
		<img with=200 height=200 src="" id="imageid"><br>
		<font>Co-ordinates:</font><br>
		<b><p id="xNy"></p></b>
		<a id="link" target="M
_" href="http://www.bitcoinland.in">BitcoinLand.in</a><br>
<script language="javascript">
var _color0 =  "cc3399";
var _color1 =  "ccccff";
var _border = "dotted";
var animationSpeed = 750;
var flagColor0	= "0x0092" + _color0;
var flagColor1 	= "0x00aa" + _color1;
document.getElementById("ordinalID").innerText = "Bitcoin Land ID : "+OrdinalID;
document.getElementById("xNy").innerText = "X =" + XAxis + ", Y = " + YAxis;
ument.getElementById("link").href="http://www.bitcoinland.in/index.html?src=ordinals&x="+XAxis+"&y="+YAxis+"&ord_id="+OrdinalID;
var color3 = "e6e6ff";
var prev_bitcoinlandFlag = root.bitcoinlandFlag;
var genesis_design = [];
var designs = ["000000000.000000020.033344420.033300020.003300000.000300000.000000000",""];
  function RGBToHSL(r, g, b) {
	if (Array.isArray(r)) {
	var cMax = Math.max(r, g, b);
	var cMin = Math.min(r, g, b);
	var delta = cMax - cMin;
	} else if (cMax == r) {
	    var h = 60 * (((g - b) / delta) % 6);
	} else if (cMax == g) {
	    var h = 60 * ((b - r) / delta + 2);
	} else if (cMax == b) {
	    var h = 60 * ((r - g) / delta + 4);
	var l = (cMax + cMin) / 2;
	    var s = delta / (1 - Math.abs(2 * l - 1));
    function HSLToRGB(h, s, l) {
	if (Array.isArray(h)) {
	var c = (1 - Math.abs(2 * l - 1)) * s;
	var x = c * (1 - Math.abs((h / 60) % 2 - 1));
	if (h >= 0 && h < 60) {
	} else if (h >= 60 && h < 120) {
	} else if (h >= 120 && h < 180) {
	} else if (h >= 180 && h < 240) {
	} else if (h >= 240 && h M
	} else if (h >= 300 && h < 360) {
	r = Math.round((r + m) * 255);
	g = Math.round((g + m) * 255);
	b = Math.round((b + m) * 255);
    function RGBToHex(arr) {
	return "#" + ("0" + r.toString(16)).slice(-2) + ("0" + g.toString(16)).slice(-2) + ("0" + b.toString(16)).slice(-2);
    function derivePalette(r, g, b, invert) {
	var hsl = RGBToHSL(r, g, b);
	var hy = (h + 320) % 360;
	var c1 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.1);
	    var c4 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.2);
	    var c5 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.45);
	    var c2 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.7);
	    var c3 = HSLToRGB(hy, 1, 0.8);
	    var c2 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.2);
	    var c3 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.45);
	    var c4 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.7);
	    var c5 = HSLToRGB(hy, 1, 0.8);
	color1 = RGBToHex(c1);
	color2 = RGBToHex(c5);
	function random(max) {
		return Math.floor(Math.random() * max) + 1;
    function hexToBytes(hex){
	for(var i = 0; i < hex.length; i+=2){
	    result.push(parseInt(hex.slice(i, i+2),16));
    var bitcoinlandFlag = function (flagid){
	if(flagid.slice(0,2) == "0x"){
	    flagid = flagid.slice(2);
	var bytes = hexToBytes(flagid);
	var genesis = byteM
	var size = size || 10;
	var invert = k >= 128;
	k = k % (designs.length-1);
	var design = designs[k].split(".");
		k = random(genesis_design.length-1);
		design = genesis_design[k].split(".");
	    if(k % 2 === 0 && invert || k % 2 === 1 && !invert){
		colors = [null, "#555555", "#d3d3d3", "#ffffff", "#000000", "#ff9999"];
		colors = [null, "#555555", "#222222", "#111111", "#M
000000", "#ff9999"];
	    colors = derivePalette(r, g, b, invert);
	return design.map(function(row){
	    return row.split("").map(function(cell){
		return colors[cell];
    bitcoinlandFlag.noConflict = function(){
	root.bitcoinlandFlag = prev_bitcoinlandFlag;
	return bitcoinlandFlag;
    if( typeof exports !== 'undefined' ) {
	if( typeof module !== 'undefined' && module.exports ) {
	    exports = module.exports = bitcoinlandFlag;
	exports.bitcoinlanM
dFlag = bitcoinlandFlag;
	root.bitcoinlandFlag = bitcoinlandFlag;
function generateBitcoinLandFlag(flagid, size){
  size = size || 10;
  var data = bitcoinlandFlag(flagid);
  var canvas = document.createElement("canvas");
  canvas.width = size * data.length;
  canvas.height = size * data[1].length;
  var ctx = canvas.getContext("2d");
  for(var i = 0; i < data.length; i++){
    for(var j = 0; j < data[i].length; j++){
      var color = data[i][j];
        ctx.fillStyle = color;M
        ctx.fillRect(i * size, j * size, size, size);
  return canvas.toDataURL();
let img = generateBitcoinLandFlag(flagColor0,200);
document.getElementById("imageid").src= img;
let img1 = generateBitcoinLandFlag(flagColor1,200);
document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.backgroundColor = color3;
document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.border = _border;
var intervalId = window.setInterval(function()
		document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.borderColor = color1;
.getElementById("imageid").src= img;
		document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.borderColor = color2;
		document.getElementById("imageid").src= img1;
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c/Foundry USA Pool #dropgold/
Aj?=:ETH.ETH:0x3B62E2BF578C3044cd11b2e0bb882C5EF63DEF69:6305805::0
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Qhttp://ns.adobe.com/xap/1.0/
' id='W5M0MpCehiHzreSzNTczkc9d'?>
<x:xmpmeta xmlns:x='adobe:ns:meta/'>
<rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf='http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#'>
 <rdf:Description rdf:about=''
  xmlns:Attrib='http://ns.attribution.com/ads/1.0/'>
f:li rdf:parseType='Resource'>
     <Attrib:Created>2023-02-10</Attrib:Created>
     <Attrib:ExtId>49445dea-7e9b-4c3f-b20d-e0017e864347</Attrib:ExtId>
     <Attrib:FbId>525265914179580</Attrib:FbId>
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 <rdf:Description rdf:about=''
  xmlns:dc='http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/'>
    <rdf:li xml:lang='x-default'>&quot;Bitcoin is a mirage
 The idea that it has some huge intrinsic valueM
 is just a joke in my view.&quot; - 28</rdf:li>
 <rdf:Description rdf:about=''
  xmlns:pdf='http://ns.adobe.com/pdf/1.3/'>
  <pdf:Author>raska696969</pdf:Author>
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                         M





                                        M





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			border: 3px solid #1b1a1b;
			border-style: dotted dashed solid double;
			background-color:rgb(255, 255, 255);
		<div id="mainDiv" class="absolute">
		<p><span id="flag"><span></p>
		<input type="hidden" id="flagid" value="">
		<p id="ordinalID"></p>
		<img with=200 height=200 src="" id="imageid"><br>
		<font>Co-ordinates:</font><br>
		<b><p id="xNy"></p></b>
		<a id="link" target="M
_" href="http://www.bitcoinland.in">BitcoinLand.in</a><br>
<script language="javascript">
var _color0 =  "ffff00";
var _color1 =  "660033";
var _border = "outset";
var animationSpeed = 950;
var flagColor0	= "0x0092" + _color0;
var flagColor1 	= "0x00aa" + _color1;
document.getElementById("ordinalID").innerText = "Bitcoin Land ID : "+OrdinalID;
document.getElementById("xNy").innerText = "X =" + XAxis + ", Y = " + YAxis;
ment.getElementById("link").href="http://www.bitcoinland.in/index.html?src=ordinals&x="+XAxis+"&y="+YAxis+"&ord_id="+OrdinalID;
var color3 = "e6e6ff";
var prev_bitcoinlandFlag = root.bitcoinlandFlag;
var genesis_design = [];
var designs = ["000000000.000000020.033344420.033300020.003300000.000300000.000000000",""];
  function RGBToHSL(r, g, b) {
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	g = Math.round((g + m) * 255);
	b = Math.round((b + m) * 255);
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    function derivePalette(r, g, b, invert) {
	var hsl = RGBToHSL(r, g, b);
	var hy = (h + 320) % 360;
	var c1 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.1);
	    var c4 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.2);
	    var c5 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.45);
	    var c2 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.7);
	    var c3 = HSLToRGB(hy, 1, 0.8);
	    var c2 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.2);
	    var c3 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.45);
	    var c4 = HSLToRGB(hx, 1, 0.7);
	    var c5 = HSLToRGB(hy, 1, 0.8);
	color1 = RGBToHex(c1);
	color2 = RGBToHex(c5);
	function random(max) {
		return Math.floor(Math.random() * max) + 1;
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	var bytes = hexToBytes(flagid);
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	var size = size || 10;
	var invert = k >= 128;
	k = k % (designs.length-1);
	var design = designs[k].split(".");
		k = random(genesis_design.length-1);
		design = genesis_design[k].split(".");
	    if(k % 2 === 0 && invert || k % 2 === 1 && !invert){
		colors = [null, "#555555", "#d3d3d3", "#ffffff", "#000000", "#ff9999"];
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	    colors = derivePalette(r, g, b, invert);
	return design.map(function(row){
	    return row.split("").map(function(cell){
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    bitcoinlandFlag.noConflict = function(){
	root.bitcoinlandFlag = prev_bitcoinlandFlag;
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	exports.bitcoinlandFlag = bitcoinlandM
	root.bitcoinlandFlag = bitcoinlandFlag;
function generateBitcoinLandFlag(flagid, size){
  size = size || 10;
  var data = bitcoinlandFlag(flagid);
  var canvas = document.createElement("canvas");
  canvas.width = size * data.length;
  canvas.height = size * data[1].length;
  var ctx = canvas.getContext("2d");
  for(var i = 0; i < data.length; i++){
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      var color = data[i][j];
        ctx.fillStyle = color;
ct(i * size, j * size, size, size);
  return canvas.toDataURL();
let img = generateBitcoinLandFlag(flagColor0,200);
document.getElementById("imageid").src= img;
let img1 = generateBitcoinLandFlag(flagColor1,200);
document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.backgroundColor = color3;
document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.border = _border;
var intervalId = window.setInterval(function()
		document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.borderColor = color1;
		document.getElementById("imL
		document.getElementById("mainDiv").style.borderColor = color2;
		document.getElementById("imageid").src= img1;
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  "name": "Ordinal Odyssey",
  "description": "The Ordinal Odyssey project celebrates the existence of Ordinal Inscription in the world of Bitcoin blockchain technology.",
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//33//@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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The first city on the Bitcoin blockchainh!
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Manifesto of the Communist Party
by Karl Marx and Frederick Engels
Written: Late 1847;
First Published: February 1848;
Source: Marx/Engels Selected Works, Vol. One, Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1969, pp. 98-137;
Translated: Samuel Moore in cooperation with Frederick Engels, 1888;
Transcribed: by Zodiac and Brian Baggins;
Proofed: and corrected against 1888 English Edition by Andy Blunden 2004;
Copyleft: Marxists Internet Archive (marxists.org) 1987, 2000, 2010. Pennission is granted tM
Editorial Introduction.2
Preface to The 1872 German Edition.4
Preface to The 1882 Russian Edition.5
Preface to The 1883 German Edition.6
Preface to The 1888 English Edition.7
Preface to The 1890 German Edition. 10
Preface to The 1892 Polish Edition.12
Preface to The 1893 Italian Edition. 13
Manifesto of the Communist Party. 14
I. Bourgeois and Proletarians. 14
II. Proletarians and Communists.22
III. Socialist and Communist Literature.28
1. Reactionary Socialism.28
A. Feudal Socialism.28
B. Petty-Bourgeois Socialism.29
2. Conservative or Bourgeois Socialism.31
3. Critical-Utopian Socialism and Communism.32
IV. Position of the Communists in Relation to the Various Existing Opposition Parties.34
Letter from Engels to Marx, 24 November 1847.35
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith.36
The Principles of Communism.41
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany.55
The Paris Commune. Address to the International Workingmen
 Association, May 1871.58
Editorial Introduction
Manifesto of the Communist Party
 was written by Marx and Engels as the Communist
s programme on the instruction of its Second Congress (London, November 29-December 8,
1847), which signified a victory for the followers of a new proletarian line during the discussion of the
programme questions.
When Congress was still in preparation, Marx and Engels arrived at the conclusion thM
programme document should be in the fonn of a Party manifesto (see Engels
November 23-24, 1847). The catechism fonn usual for the secret societies of the time and retained in
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Principles of Communism,
 was not suitable for
a full and substantial exposition of the new revolutionary world outlook, for a comprehensive
formulation of the proletarian movement
s aims and tasks. See also
Demands of the Communist
 issued by Marx soon after publication of the Manifesto, which addressed the
immediate demands of the movement.
Marx and Engels began working together on the Manifesto while they were still in London
immediately after the congress, and continued until about December 13 when Marx returned to
Brussels; they resumed their work four days later (December 17) when Engels arrived there. After
 departure for Paris at the end of December and up to his return on January 31, Marx worked
Hurried by the Central Authority of the Communist League which provided him with certain
documents (e.g., addresses of the People
s Chamber (Halle) of the League of the Just of November
1846 and February 1847, and, apparently, documents of the First Congress of the Communist League
pertaining to the discussion of the Party programme), Marx worked intensively on the Manifesto
through almost the whole of January 1848. At the end of January the manuscript was sent on to
London to be printed in tM
 Educational Society
s print shop owned by a German
emigrant J. E. Burghard, a member of the Communist League.
The manuscript of the Manifesto has not survived. The only extant materials written in Marx
are a draft plan for Section III, showing his efforts to improve the structure of the Manifesto, and a
page of a rough copy.
The Manifesto came off the press at the end of February 1848. On February 29, the Educational
Society decided to cover all the printing expenses.
irst edition of the Manifesto was a 23-page pamphlet in a dark green cover. In April-May 1848
another edition was put out. The text took up 30 pages, some misprints of the first edition were
corrected, and the punctuation improved. Subsequently this text was used by Marx and Engels as a
basis for later authorised editions. Between March and July 1848 the Manifesto was printed in the
Deutsche Londoner Zeitung, a democratic newspaper of the Gennan emigrants. Already that same
year numerous efforts were made to pM
ublish the Manifesto in other European languages. A Danish, a
Polish (in Paris) and a Swedish (under a different title:
The Voice of Communism. Declaration of the
) editions appeared in 1848. The translations into French, Italian and Spanish made
at that time remained unpublished. In April 1848, Engels, then in Barmen, was translating the
Manifesto into English, but he managed to translate only half of it, and the first English translation,
made by Helen Macfarlane, was not published untilM
 two years later, between June and November 1850,
in the Chartist journal The Red Republican. Its editor, Julian Harney, named the authors for the first
time in the introduction to this publication. All earlier and many subsequent editions of the Manifesto
The growing emancipation struggle of the proletariat in the
70s of the 19th century led to
new editions of the Manifesto. The year 1872 saw a new Gennan edition with minor corrections and a
preface by Marx and Engels where theM
y drew some conclusions from the experience of the Paris
Commune of 1871. This and subsequent Gennan editions (1883 and 1890) were entitled the
Communist Manifesto. In 1872 the Manifesto was first published in America in Woodhull & Claflin
The first Russian edition of the Manifesto, translated by Mikhail Bakunin with some distortions,
appeared in Geneva in 1869. The faults of this edition were removed in the 1882 edition (translation
by Georgi Plekhanov), for which Marx aM
nd Engels, who attributed great significance to the
dissemination of Marxism in Russia, had written a special preface.
s death, the Manifesto ran into several editions. Engels read through them all, wrote
prefaces for the 1883 German edition and for the 1888 English edition in Samuel Moore
which he also edited and supplied with notes. This edition served as a basis for many subsequent
editions of the Manifesto in English
 in Britain, the United States and the USSR. In 1890, EnM
prepared a further German edition, wrote a new preface to it, and added a number of notes. In 1885,
the newspaper Le Socialiste published the French translation of the Manifesto made by Marx
daughter Laura Lafargue and read by Engels. He also wrote prefaces to the 1892 Polish and 1893
This edition includes the two earlier versions of the Manifesto, namely the draft
The Principles of Communism,
 both authored by Engels, as well as the
tter from Engels to Marx which poses the idea of publishing a
 rather than a catechism.
The Manifesto addressed itself to a mass movement with historical significance, not a political sect.
On the other hand, the
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
 is included to place the
publication of the Manifesto in the context of the mass movement in Germany at the time, whose
immediate demands are reflected by Marx in this pamphlet. Clearly the aims of the Manifesto were
more far-reaching thM
e movement in Germany at the time, and unlike the
outlive the immediate conditions.
Third Address to the International Workingmen
 is included because in this
speech Marx examines the movement of the working class manifested in the Paris Commune, and his
observations here mark the only revisions to his social and historical vision made during his lifetime
as a result of the development of the working class movement itself, clarifying some points and
ing others more concrete.
Preface to The 1872 German Edition
The Communist League, an international association of workers, which could of course be only a
secret one, under conditions obtaining at the time, commissioned us, the undersigned, at the
Congress held in London in November 1847, to write for publication a detailed theoretical and
practical programme for the Party. Such was the origin of the following Manifesto, the
manuscript of which travelled to London to be printed a few weeks before the FeM
Revolution [in 1848]. First published in German, it has been republished in that language in at
least twelve different editions in Germany, England, and America. It was published in English for
the first time in 1850 in the Red Republican, London, translated by Miss Helen Macfarlane, and
in 1871 in at least three different translations in America. The French version first appeared in
Paris shortly before the June insurrection of 1848, and recently in Le Socialiste of New York. A
n is in the course of preparation. A Polish version appeared in London shortly after
it was first published in Germany. A Russian translation was published in Geneva in the sixties 1 .
Into Danish, too, it was translated shortly after its appearance.
However much that state of things may have altered during the last twenty-five years, the general
principles laid down in the Manifesto are, on the whole, as correct today as ever. Here and there,
some detail might be improved. The practical application of the prM
inciples will depend, as the
Manifesto itself states, everywhere and at all times, on the historical conditions for the time being
existing, and, for that reason, no special stress is laid on the revolutionary measures proposed at
the end of Section II. That passage would, in many respects, be very differently worded today. In
view of the gigantic strides of Modem Industry since 1848, and of the accompanying improved
and extended organization of the working class, in view of the practical experience gained, fiM
the February Revolution, and then, still more, in the Paris Commune, where the proletariat for the
first time held political power for two whole months, this programme has in some details been
antiquated. One thing especially was proved by the Commune, viz., that
cannot simply lay hold of the ready-made state machinery, and wield it for its own purposes.
(See The Civil War in France: Address of the General Council of the International Working
s Association, 1871, where thiM
s point is further developed.) Further, it is self-evident that the
criticism of socialist literature is deficient in relation to the present time, because it comes down
only to 1847; also that the remarks on the relation of the Communists to the various opposition
parties (Section IV), although, in principle still correct, yet in practice are antiquated, because the
political situation has been entirely changed, and the progress of history has swept from off the
earth the greater portion of the political partM
ies there enumerated.
But then, the Manifesto has become a historical document which we have no longer any right to
alter. A subsequent edition may perhaps appear with an introduction bridging the gap from 1847
to the present day; but this reprint was too unexpected to leave us time for that.
Karl Marx & Frederick Engels
June 24, 1872, London
Preface to The 1882 Russian Edition
The first Russian edition of the Manifesto of the Communist Party, translated by Bakunin, was
published early in the
ties by the printing office of the Kolokol [a reference to the Free
Russian Printing Flouse]. Then the West could see in it (the Russian edition of the Manifesto)
only a literary curiosity. Such a view would be impossible today.
What a limited field the proletarian movement occupied at that time (December 1847) is most
clearly shown by the last section: the position of the Communists in relation to the various
opposition parties in various countries. Precisely Russia and the United States are missing here. ItM
was the time when Russia constituted the last great reserve of all European reaction, when the
United States absorbed the surplus proletarian forces of Europe through immigration. Both
countries provided Europe with raw materials and were at the same time markets for the sale of
its industrial products. Both were, therefore, in one way of another, pillars of the existing
How very different today. Precisely European immigration fitted North American for a gigantic
agricultural production, wM
hose competition is shaking the very foundations of European landed
property - large and small. At the same time, it enabled the United States to exploit its
tremendous industrial resources with an energy and on a scale that must shortly break the
industrial monopoly of Western Europe, and especially of England, existing up to now. Both
circumstances react in a revolutionary manner upon America itself. Step by step, the small and
middle land ownership of the farmers, the basis of the whole political constitutiM
to the competition of giant farms; at the same time, a mass industrial proletariat and a fabulous
concentration of capital funds are developing for the first time in the industrial regions.
And now Russia! During the Revolution of 1848-9, not only the European princes, but the
European bourgeois as well, found their only salvation from the proletariat just beginning to
awaken in Russian intervention. The Tsar was proclaimed the chief of European reaction. Today,
he is a prisoner of war of tM
he revolution in Gatchina 2 , and Russia forms the vanguard of
revolutionary action in Europe.
The Communist Manifesto had, as its object, the proclamation of the inevitable impending
dissolution of modem bourgeois property. But in Russia we find, face-to-face with the rapidly
flowering capitalist swindle and bourgeois property, just beginning to develop, more than half the
land owned in common by the peasants. Now the question is: can the Russian obshchina, though
greatly undermined, yet a form of primeval M
common ownership of land, pass directly to the
higher form of Communist common ownership? Or, on the contrary, must it first pass through the
same process of dissolution such as constitutes the historical evolution of the West?
The only answer to that possible today is this: If the Russian Revolution becomes the signal for a
proletarian revolution in the West, so that both complement each other, the present Russian
common ownership of land may serve as the starting point for a communist development.
rx & Frederick Engels
January 21, 1882, London
Preface to The 1883 German Edition
The preface to the present edition I must, alas, sign alone. Marx, the man to whom the whole
working class of Europe and America owes more than to any one else - rests at Highgate
Cemetery and over his grave the first grass is already growing. Since his death [March 14, 1883],
there can be even less thought of revising or supplementing the Manifesto. But I consider it all the
more necessary again to state the following exM
The basic thought running through the Manifesto - that economic production, and the structure of
society of every historical epoch necessarily arising therefrom, constitute the foundation for the
political and intellectual history of that epoch; that consequently (ever since the dissolution of the
primaeval communal ownership of land) all history has been a history of class struggles, of
struggles between exploited and exploiting, between dominated and dominating classes at various
evolution; that this struggle, however, has now reached a stage where the
exploited and oppressed class (the proletariat) can no longer emancipate itself from the class
which exploits and oppresses it (the bourgeoisie), without at the same time forever freeing the
whole of society from exploitation, oppression, class struggles - this basic thought belongs solely
and exclusively to Marx.
I have already stated this many times; but precisely now is it necessary that it also stand in front
of the Manifesto itselM
June 28, 1883, London
 I wrote in the preface to the English translation,
which, in my opinion, is destined to do for
 s theory has done for biology, we both of us, had been gradually approaching for some years
before 1845. How far I had independently progressed towards it is best shown by my Conditions of the Working Class
in England. But when I again met Marx at Brussels, in spring 1845, he had it already worked out and put it before meM
in terms almost as clear as those in which I have stated it here.
 [Note by Engels to the Gennan edition of 1890]
Preface to The 1888 English Edition
The Manifesto was published as the platform of the Communist League, a working men
association, first exclusively German, later on international, and under the political conditions of
the Continent before 1848, unavoidably a secret society. At a Congress of the League, held in
November 1847, Marx and Engels were commissioned to prepare a complete thM
practical party programme. Drawn up in German, in January 1848, the manuscript was sent to the
printer in London a few weeks before the French Revolution of February 24. A French translation
was brought out in Paris shortly before the insurrection of June 1848. The first English
translation, by Miss Helen Macfarlane, appeared in George Julian Harney
Fondon, 1850. A Danish and a Polish edition had also been published.
The defeat of the Parisian insurrection of June 1848 - thM
e first great battle between proletariat and
bourgeoisie - drove again into the background, for a time, the social and political aspirations of
the European working class. Thenceforth, the struggle for supremacy was, again, as it had been
before the Revolution of February, solely between different sections of the propertied class; the
working class was reduced to a fight for political elbow-room, and to the position of extreme
wing of the middle-class Radicals. Wherever independent proletarian movements continM
show signs of life, they were ruthlessly hunted down. Thus the Prussian police hunted out the
Central Board of the Communist Feague, then located in Cologne. The members were arrested
and, after eighteen months
 imprisonment, they were tried in October 1852. This celebrated
Cologne Communist Trial
 lasted from October 4 till November 12; seven of the prisoners were
sentenced to terms of imprisonment in a fortress, varying from three to six years. Immediately
after the sentence, the Feague was foM
rmally dissolved by the remaining members. As to the
Manifesto, it seemed henceforth doomed to oblivion.
When the European workers had recovered sufficient strength for another attack on the ruling
classes, the International Working Men
 s Association sprang up. But this association, formed
with the express aim of welding into one body the whole militant proletariat of Europe and
America, could not at once proclaim the principles laid down in the Manifesto. The International
was bound to have a programme bM
road enough to be acceptable to the English trade unions, to the
followers of Proudhon in France, Belgium, Italy, and Spain, and to the Fassalleans in Germany.
Marx, who drew up this programme to the satisfaction of all parties, entirely trusted to the
intellectual development of the working class, which was sure to result from combined action and
mutual discussion. The very events and vicissitudes in the struggle against capital, the defeats
even more than the victories, could not help bringing home to men
s minds the insufficiency of
their various favorite nostrums, and preparing the way for a more complete insight into the true
conditions for working-class emancipation. And Marx was right. The International, on its
breaking in 1874, left the workers quite different men from what it found them in 1864.
Proudhonism in France, Fassalleanism in Germany, were dying out, and even the conservative
English trade unions, though most of them had long since severed their connection with the
International, were graduallyM
 advancing towards that point at which, last year at Swansea, their
president [W. Bevan] could say in their name:
Continental socialism has lost its terror for us.
fact, the principles of the Manifesto had made considerable headway among the working men of
Lassalle personally, to us, always acknowledged himself to be a disciple of Marx, and, as such, stood on the ground of
the Manifesto. But in his first public agitation, 1862-1864, he did not go beyond demanding co-operative workshopM
supported by state credit.
Preface to the 1888 English Edition
The Manifesto itself came thus to the front again. Since 1850, the German text had been reprinted
several times in Switzerland, England, and America. In 1872, it was translated into English in
New York, where the translation was published in Woorhull and Claflin
s Weekly. From this
English version, a French one was made in Le Socialiste of New York. Since then, at least two
more English translations, more or less mutilated, have been broM
ught out in America, and one of
them has been reprinted in England. The first Russian translation, made by Bakunin, was
 s Kolokol office in Geneva, about 1863; a second one, by the heroic Vera
Zasulich, also in Geneva, in 1882. A new Danish edition is to be found in Socialdemokratisk
Bibliothek, Copenhagen, 1885; a fresh French translation in Le Socialiste, Paris, 1886. From this
latter, a Spanish version was prepared and published in Madrid, 1886. The German reprints are
ted; there have been twelve altogether at the least. An Armenian translation, which
was to be published in Constantinople some months ago, did not see the light, I am told, because
the publisher was afraid of bringing out a book with the name of Marx on it, while the translator
declined to call it his own production. Of further translations into other languages I have heard
but had not seen. Thus the history of the Manifesto reflects the history of the modem working-
class movement; at present, it is doubtlessM
 the most wide spread, the most international
production of all socialist literature, the common platform acknowledged by millions of working
men from Siberia to California.
Yet, when it was written, we could not have called it a socialist manifesto. By Socialists, in 1847,
were understood, on the one hand the adherents of the various Utopian systems: Owenites in
England, Fourierists in France, both of them already reduced to the position of mere sects, and
gradually dying out; on the other hand, the most muM
ltifarious social quacks who, by all manner of
tinkering, professed to redress, without any danger to capital and profit, all sorts of social
grievances, in both cases men outside the working-class movement, and looking rather to the
 classes for support. Whatever portion of the working class had become convinced of
the insufficiency of mere political revolutions, and had proclaimed the necessity of total social
change, called itself Communist. It was a crude, rough-hewn, purely instinctive sort M
communism; still, it touched the cardinal point and was powerful enough amongst the working
class to produce the Utopian communism of Cabet in France, and of Weitling in Germany. Thus,
in 1847, socialism was a middle-class movement, communism a working-class movement.
Socialism was, on the Continent at least,
; communism was the very opposite. And
as our notion, from the very beginning, was that
the emancipation of the workers must be the act
of the working class itself,
be no doubt as to which of the two names we must take.
Moreover, we have, ever since, been far from repudiating it.
The Manifesto being our joint production, I consider myself bound to state that the fundamental
proposition which forms the nucleus belongs to Marx. That proposition is: That in every
historical epoch, the prevailing mode of economic production and exchange, and the social
organization necessarily following from it, form the basis upon which it is built up, and from that
which alone can be explM
ained the political and intellectual history of that epoch; that consequently
the whole history of mankind (since the dissolution of primitive tribal society, holding land in
common ownership) has been a history of class struggles, contests between exploiting and
exploited, ruling and oppressed classes; That the history of these class struggles forms a series of
evolutions in which, nowadays, a stage has been reached where the exploited and oppressed class
- the proletariat - cannot attain its emancipation frM
om the sway of the exploiting and ruling class
- the bourgeoisie - without, at the same time, and once and for all, emancipating society at large
from all exploitation, oppression, class distinction, and class struggles.
This proposition, which, in my opinion, is destined to do for history what Darwin
done for biology, we both of us, had been gradually approaching for some years before 1845.
How far I had independently progressed towards it is best shown by my
 But when I again met Marx at Brussels, in spring 1845, he had it
Preface to the 1888 English Edition
already worked out and put it before me in terms almost as clear as those in which I have stated it
From our joint preface to the German edition of 1872,1 quote the following:
However much that state of things may have altered during the last twenty-five
years, the general principles laid down in the Manifesto are, on the whole, as
correct today as ever. Here and there, M
some detail might be improved. The
practical application of the principles will depend, as the Manifesto itself states,
everywhere and at all times, on the historical conditions for the time being
existing, and, for that reason, no special stress is laid on the revolutionary
measures proposed at the end of Section II. That passage would, in many respects,
be very differently worded today. In view of the gigantic strides of Modem
Industry since 1848, and of the accompanying improved and extended
of the working class, in view of the practical experience gained, first
in the February Revolution, and then, still more, in the Paris Commune, where the
proletariat for the first time held political power for two whole months, this
programme has in some details been antiquated. One thing especially was proved
by the Commune, viz., that
the working class cannot simply lay hold of ready
made state machinery, and wield it for its own purposes.
 (See The Civil War in
France: Address of the General CouncilM
 of the International Working Men
Association 1871, where this point is further developed.) Further, it is self-evident
that the criticism of socialist literature is deficient in relation to the present time,
because it comes down only to 1847; also that the remarks on the relation of the
Communists to the various opposition parties (Section IV), although, in principle
still correct, yet in practice are antiquated, because the political situation has been
entirely changed, and the progress of history has M
swept from off the Earth the
greater portion of the political parties there enumerated.
But then, the Manifesto has become a historical document which we have no
longer any right to alter.
The present translation is by Mr Samuel Moore, the translator of the greater portion of Marx
 We have revised it in common, and I have added a few notes explanatory of historical
January 30, 1888, London
Preface to The 1890 German Edition
Since [the first GermM
an preface of 1883] was written, a new German edition of the Manifesto has
again become necessary, and much has also happened to the Manifesto which should be recorded
A second Russian translation - by Vera Zasulich - appeared in Geneva in 1882; the preface to
that edition was written by Marx and myself. Unfortunately, the original German manuscript has
gone astray; I must therefore retranslate from the Russian which will in no way improve the text.
[Reprint of the 1882 Russian Edition ]
At about the same date, a new Polish version appeared in Geneva: Manifest Kommunistyczny.
Furthermore, a new Danish translation has appeared in the Socialdemokratisk Bibliothek,
Copenhagen, 1885. Unfortunately, it is not quite complete; certain essential passages, which seem
to have presented difficulties to the translator, have been omitted, and, in addition, there are signs
of carelessness here and there, which are all the more unpleasantly conspicuous since the
translation indicates that had the translatorM
 taken a little more pains, he would have done an
excellent piece of work.
A new French version appeared in 1886, in Le Socialiste of Paris; it is the best published to date.
From this latter, a Spanish version was published the same year in El Socialista of Madrid, and
then reissued in pamphlet form: Manifesto del Partido Communista por Carlos Marx y F. Engels,
Madrid, Administracion de El Socialista, Pieman Cortes 8.
As a matter of curiosity, I may mention that in 1887 the manuscript of an Armenian translM
was offered to a publisher in Constantinople. But the good man did not have the courage to
publish something bearing the name of Marx and suggested that the translator set down his own
name as author, which the latter however declined.
After one, and then another, of the more or less inaccurate American translations had been
repeatedly reprinted in England, an authentic version at last appeared in 1888. This was my friend
Samuel Moore, and we went through it together once more before it went to press. M
Manifesto of the Communist Party, by Karl Marx and Frederick Engels. Authorized English
translation, edited and annotated by Frederick Engels, 1888, London, William Reeves, 185 Fleet
Street, E.C. I have added some of the notes of that edition to the present one.
The Manifesto has had a history of its own. Greeted with enthusiasm, at the time of its
appearance, by the not at all numerous vanguard of scientific socialism (as is proved by the
translations mentioned in the first place), it was soM
on forced into the background by the reaction
that began with the defeat of the Paris workers in June 1848, and was finally excommunicated
 in the conviction of the Cologne Communists in November 1852. With the
disappearance from the public scene of the workers
 movement that had begun with the February
Revolution, the Manifesto too passed into the background.
When the European workers had again gathered sufficient strength for a new onslaught upon the
power of the ruling classes, the InternatiM
 s Association came into being. Its
aim was to weld together into one huge army the whole militant working class of Europe and
America. Therefore it could not set out from the principles laid down in the Manifesto. It was
bound to have a programme which would not shut the door on the English trade unions, the
French, Belgian, Italian, and Spanish Proudhonists, and the German Lassalleans. This programme
- the considerations underlying the Statutes of the International - was drawn up by Marx wM
master hand acknowledged even by the Bakunin and the anarchists. For the ultimate final triumph
Preface to the 1890 German Edition
of the ideas set forth in the Manifesto, Marx relied solely upon the intellectual development of the
working class, as it necessarily has to ensue from united action and discussion. The events and
vicissitudes in the struggle against capital, the defeats even more than the successes, could not but
demonstrate to the fighters the inadequacy of their former universaM
l panaceas, and make their
minds more receptive to a thorough understanding of the true conditions for working-class
emancipation. And Marx was right. The working class of 1874, at the dissolution of the
International, was altogether different from that of 1864, at its foundation. Proudhonism in the
Latin countries, and the specific Lassalleanism in Germany, were dying out; and even the ten
arch-conservative English trade unions were gradually approaching the point where, in 1887, the
chairman of their SwanseM
a Congress could say in their name:
Continental socialism has lost its
 Yet by 1887 continental socialism was almost exclusively the theory heralded in
the Manifesto. Thus, to a certain extent, the history of the Manifesto reflects the history of the
modem working-class movement since 1848. At present, it is doubtless the most widely
circulated, the most international product of all socialist literature, the common programme of
many millions of workers of all countries from Siberia to CalifM
Nevertheless, when it appeared, we could not have called it a socialist manifesto. In 1847, two
kinds of people were considered socialists. On the one hand were the adherents of the various
utopian systems, notably the Owenites in England and the Fourierists in France, both of whom, at
that date, had already dwindled to mere sects gradually dying out. On the other, the manifold
types of social quacks who wanted to eliminate social abuses through their various universal
panaceas and all kinds of patch-M
work, without hurting capital and profit in the least. In both cases,
people who stood outside the labor movement and who looked for support rather to the
 classes. The section of the working class, however, which demanded a radical
reconstruction of society, convinced that mere political revolutions were not enough, then called
itself Communist. It was still a rough-hewn, only instinctive and frequently somewhat crude
communism. Yet, it was powerful enough to bring into being two systems of utopM
 communists of Cabet, and in Germany that of Weitling. Socialism in
1847 signified a bourgeois movement, communism a working-class movement. Socialism was,
on the Continent at least, quite respectable, whereas communism was the very opposite. And
since we were very decidedly of the opinion as early as then that
the emancipation of the
workers must be the task of the working class itself,
 [from the General Rules of the
International] we could have no hesitationM
 as to which of the two names we should choose. Nor
has it ever occurred to us to repudiate it.
Working men of all countries, unite!
 But few voices responded when we proclaimed these
words to the world 42 years ago, on the eve of the first Paris Revolution in which the proletariat
came out with the demands of its own. On September 28, 1864, however, the proletarians of most
of the Western European countries joined hands in the International Working Men
of glorious memory. True, the InteM
rnational itself lived only nine years. But that the eternal union
of the proletarians of all countries created by it is still alive and lives stronger than ever, there is
no better witness than this day. Because today 3 , as I write these lines, the European and American
proletariat is reviewing its fighting forces, mobilized for the first time, mobilized as one army,
under one flag, for one immediate aim: the standard eight-hour working day to be established by
legal enactment, as proclaimed by the Geneva CoM
ngress of the International in 1866, and again by
 Congress of 1889. And today
s spectacle will open the eyes of the capitalists
and landlords of all countries to the fact that today the proletarians of all countries are united
If only Marx were still by my side to see this with his own eyes!
May 1, 1890, London
Preface to The 1892 Polish Edition
The fact that a new Polish edition of the Communist Manifesto has become necessary gives rise
First of all, it is noteworthy that of late the Manifesto has become an index, as it were, of the
development of large-scale industry on the European continent. In proportion as large-scale
industry expands in a given country, the demand grows among the workers of that country for
enlightenment regarding their position as the working class in relation to the possessing classes,
the socialist movement spreads among them and the demand for the Manifesto increases. Thus,
not only the state of the labourM
 movement but also the degree of development of large-scale
industry can be measured with fair accuracy in every country by the number of copies of the
Manifesto circulated in the language of that country.
Accordingly, the new Polish edition indicates a decided progress of Polish industry. And there
can be no doubt whatever that this progress since the previous edition published ten years ago has
actually taken place. Russian Poland, Congress Poland, has become the big industrial region of
. Whereas Russian large-scale industry is scattered sporadically - a part round
the Gulf of Finland, another in the centre (Moscow and Vladimir), a third along the coasts of the
Black and Azov seas, and still others elsewhere - Polish industry has been packed into a
relatively small area and enjoys both the advantages and disadvantages arising from such
concentration. The competing Russian manufacturers acknowledged the advantages when they
demanded protective tariffs against Poland, in spit of their ardent deM
sire to transform the Poles
into Russians. The disadvantages - for the Polish manufacturers and the Russian government -
are manifest in the rapid spread of socialist ideas among the Polish workers and in the growing
demand for the Manifesto.
But the rapid development of Polish industry, outstripping that of Russia, is in its turn a new
proof of the inexhaustible vitality of the Polish people and a new guarantee of its impending
national restoration. And the restoration of an independent and strong Poland isM
concerns not only the Poles but all of us. A sincere international collaboration of the European
nations is possible only if each of these nations is fully autonomous in its own house. The
Revolution of 1848, which under the banner of the proletariat, after all, merely let the proletarian
fighters do the work of the bourgeoisie, also secured the independence of Italy, Germany and
Hungary through its testamentary executors, Louis Bonaparte and Bismarck; but Poland, which
since 1792 had done morM
e for the Revolution than all these three together, was left to its own
resources when it succumbed in 1863 to a tenfold greater Russian force. The nobility could
neither maintain nor regain Polish independence; today, to the bourgeoisie, this independence is,
to say the last, immaterial. Nevertheless, it is a necessity for the harmonious collaboration of the
European nations. It can be gained only by the young Polish proletariat, and in its hands it is
secure. For the workers of all the rest of Europe need thM
e independence of Poland just as much as
the Polish workers themselves.
London, February 10, 1892
Preface to The 1893 Italian Edition
Publication of the Manifesto of the Communist Party coincided, one may say, with March 18,
1848, the day of the revolution in Milan and Berlin, which were armed uprisings of the two
nations situated in the centre, the one, of the continent of Europe, the other, of the Mediterranean;
two nations until then enfeebled by division and internal strife, and thus faM
domination. While Italy was subject to the Emperor of Austria, Germany underwent the yoke, not
less effective though more indirect, of the Tsar of all the Russias. The consequences of March 18,
1848, freed both Italy and Germany from this disgrace; if from 1848 to 1871 these two great
nations were reconstituted and somehow again put on their own, it was as Karl Marx used to say,
because the men who suppressed the Revolution of 1848 were, nevertheless, its testamentary
executors in spite of M
Everywhere that revolution was the work of the working class; it was the latter that built the
barricades and paid with its lifeblood. Only the Paris workers, in overthrowing the government,
had the very definite intention of overthrowing the bourgeois regime. But conscious though they
were of the fatal antagonism existing between their own class and the bourgeoisie, still, neither
the economic progress of the country nor the intellectual development of the mass of French
workers had as yet reachM
ed the stage which would have made a social reconstruction possible. In
the final analysis, therefore, the fruits of the revolution were reaped by the capitalist class. In the
other countries, in Italy, in Germany, in Austria, the workers, from the very outset, did nothing
but raise the bourgeoisie to power. But in any country the rule of the bourgeoisie is impossible
without national independence Therefore, the Revolution of 1848 had to bring in its train the
unity and autonomy of the nations that had lacked M
them up to then: Italy, Germany, Hungary.
Poland will follow in turn.
Thus, if the Revolution of 1848 was not a socialist revolution, it paved the way, prepared the
ground for the latter. Through the impetus given to large-scaled industry in all countries, the
bourgeois regime during the last forty-five years has everywhere created a numerous,
concentrated and powerful proletariat. It has thus raised, to use the language of the Manifesto, its
own grave-diggers. Without restoring autonomy and unity to each naM
tion, it will be impossible to
achieve the international union of the proletariat, or the peaceful and intelligent co-operation of
these nations toward common aims. Just imagine joint international action by the Italian,
Hungarian, German, Polish and Russian workers under the political conditions preceding 1848!
The battles fought in 1848 were thus not fought in vain. Nor have the forty-five years separating
us from that revolutionary epoch passed to no purpose. The fruits are ripening, and all I wish is
t the publication of this Italian translation may augur as well for the victory of the Italian
proletariat as the publication of the original did for the international revolution.
The Manifesto does full justice to the revolutionary part played by capitalism in the past. The first
capitalist nation was Italy. The close of the feudal Middle Ages, and the opening of the modem
capitalist era are marked by a colossal figured: an Italian, Dante, both the last poet of the Middle
Ages and the first poet of modem timM
es. Today, as in 1300, a new historical era is approaching.
Will Italy give us the new Dante, who will mark the hour of birth of this new, proletarian era?
London, February 1, 1893
Manifesto of the Communist Party
A spectre is haunting Europe - the spectre of communism. All the powers of old Europe have
entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Pope and Tsar, Metternich and Guizot,
French Radicals and German police-spies.
Where is the party in opposition that has not beM
en decried as communistic by its opponents in
power? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of communism,
against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its reactionary adversaries?
Two things result from this fact:
I. Communism is already acknowledged by all European powers to be itself a
II. It is high time that Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world,
publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale oM
Spectre of Communism with a manifesto of the party itself.
To this end. Communists of various nationalities have assembled in London and sketched the
following manifesto, to be published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish
I. Bourgeois and Proletarians*
The history of all hitherto existing society 1 is the history of class struggles.
Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master 1 and journeyman, in a
word, oppressor and oppressed, stooM
d in constant opposition to one another, carried on an
uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary
reconstitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.
In the earlier epochs of history, we find almost everywhere a complicated arrangement of society
into various orders, a manifold gradation of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians,
knights, plebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals, guild-mastersM
apprentices, serfs; in almost all of these classes, again, subordinate gradations.
The modem bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done
away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression,
new forms of struggle in place of the old ones.
By bourgeoisie is meant the class of modem capitalists, owners of the means of social production and employers of
wage labour. By proletariat, the class of modern wage labourers wM
ho, having no means of production of their own, are
reduced to selling their labour power in order to live. [Engels, 1888 English edition]
+ That is, all written history. In 1847, the pre-history of society, the social organisation existing previous to recorded
history, all but unknown. Since then, August von Haxthausen (1792-1866) discovered common ownership of land in
Russia, Georg Ludwig von Maurer proved it to be the social foundation from which all Teutonic races started in history,
and, by and by, villaM
ge communities were found to be, or to have been, the primitive form of society everywhere from
India to Ireland. The inner organisation of this primitive communistic society was laid bare, in its typical form, by
Lewis Henry Morgan's (1818-1861) crowning discovery of the true nature of the gens and its relation to the tribe. With
the dissolution of the primeval communities, society begins to be differentiated into separate and finally antagonistic
classes. I have attempted to retrace this dissolution in The OrM
igin of the Family, Private Property, and the State, second
edition, Stuttgart, 1886. [Engels, 1888 English Edition and 1890 German Edition (with the last sentence omitted)]
* Guild-master, that is, a full member of a guild, a master within, not a head of a guild. [Engels, 1888 English Edition]
Manifesto of the Communist Party
Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinct feature: it has
simplified class antagonisms. Society as a whole is more and more splitting up intoM
hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other - Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.
From the serfs of the Middle Ages sprang the chartered burghers of the earliest towns. From these
burgesses the first elements of the bourgeoisie were developed.
The discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up fresh ground for the rising
bourgeoisie. The East-Indian and Chinese markets, the colonisation of America, trade with the
colonies, the increase in the means of exchange and in commM
odities generally, gave to commerce,
to navigation, to industry, an impulse never before known, and thereby, to the revolutionary
element in the tottering feudal society, a rapid development.
The feudal system of industry, in which industrial production was monopolised by closed guilds,
now no longer sufficed for the growing wants of the new markets. The manufacturing system
took its place. The guild-masters were pushed on one side by the manufacturing middle class;
division of labour between the different cM
oiporate guilds vanished in the face of division of labour
in each single workshop.
Meantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising. Even manufacturer no longer
sufficed. Thereupon, steam and machinery revolutionised industrial production. The place of
manufacture was taken by the giant, Modem Industry; the place of the industrial middle class by
industrial millionaires, the leaders of the whole industrial armies, the modem bourgeois.
Modem industry has established the world market, for whichM
 the discovery of America paved the
way. This market has given an immense development to commerce, to navigation, to
communication by land. This development has, in its turn, reacted on the extension of industry;
and in proportion as industry, commerce, navigation, railways extended, in the same proportion
the bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital, and pushed into the background every class
handed down from the Middle Ages.
We see, therefore, how the modem bourgeoisie is itself the product of a long cM
development, of a series of revolutions in the modes of production and of exchange.
Each step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political
advance of that class. An oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and
self-governing association in the medieval commune : here independent urban republic (as in
Italy and Germany); there taxable
 of the monarchy (as in France); afterwards, in the
period of manufacturing proper, serviM
ng either the semi-feudal or the absolute monarchy as a
counterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, cornerstone of the great monarchies in general, the
bourgeoisie has at last, since the establishment of Modem Industry and of the world market,
conquered for itself, in the modem representative State, exclusive political sway. The executive
of the modern state is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole
The bourgeoisie, historically, has played a most revolutionary part.
The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal,
idyllic relations. It has pitilessly tom asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his
, and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-
interest, than callous
. It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious
This was the name given their urban communities by the townsmen of Italy and France, after they had purchased or
their initial rights of self-government from their feudal lords. [Engels, 1890 Gennan edition]
was the name taken in France by the nascent towns even before they had conquered from their feudal lords and masters
local self-government and political rights as the
 Generally speaking, for the economical development of
the bourgeoisie, England is here taken as the typical country, for its political development, France. [Engels, 1888
Manifesto of the CommunM
fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical
calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless
indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom - Free Trade. In
one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked,
shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.
The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honouM
red and looked up to with
reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science,
into its paid wage labourers.
The bourgeoisie has tom away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family
relation to a mere money relation.
The bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that the brutal display of vigour in the Middle
Ages, which reactionaries so much admire, found its fitting complement in the most slothful
indolence. It has been the first to M
s activity can bring about. It has accomplished
wonders far surpassing Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals; it has
conducted expeditions that put in the shade all former Exoduses of nations and crusades.
The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionising the instruments of production,
and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society.
Conservation of the old modes of production in unaltered form, was, on the contrary, the fM
condition of existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constant revolutionising of production,
uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation
distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their
train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones
become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is
profaned, and man is at last comM
pelled to face with sober senses his real conditions of life, and his
relations with his kind.
The need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases the bourgeoisie over the entire
surface of the globe. It must nestle everywhere, settle everywhere, establish connexions
The bourgeoisie has through its exploitation of the world market given a cosmopolitan character
to production and consumption in every country. To the great chagrin of Reactionists, it has
drawn from under the feet ofM
 industry the national ground on which it stood. All old-established
national industries have been destroyed or are daily being destroyed. They are dislodged by new
industries, whose introduction becomes a life and death question for all civilised nations, by
industries that no longer work up indigenous raw material, but raw material drawn from the
remotest zones; industries whose products are consumed, not only at home, but in every quarter
of the globe. In place of the old wants, satisfied by the production M
of the country, we find new
wants, requiring for their satisfaction the products of distant lands and climes. In place of the old
local and national seclusion and self-sufficiency, we have intercourse in every direction, universal
inter-dependence of nations. And as in material, so also in intellectual production. The intellectual
creations of individual nations become common property. National one-sidedness and narrow
mindedness become more and more impossible, and from the numerous national and local
ratures, there arises a world literature.
The bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments of production, by the immensely
facilitated means of communication, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilisation.
The cheap prices of commodities are the heavy artillery with which it batters down all Chinese
walls, with which it forces the barbarians
 intensely obstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It
compels all nations, on pain of extinction, to adopt the bourgeois mode of produM
them to introduce what it calls civilisation into their midst, i.e., to become bourgeois themselves.
In one word, it creates a world after its own image.
Manifesto of the Communist Party
The bourgeoisie has subjected the country to the rule of the towns. It has created enormous cities,
has greatly increased the urban population as compared with the rural, and has thus rescued a
considerable part of the population from the idiocy of rural life. Just as it has made the country
ndent on the towns, so it has made barbarian and semi-barbarian countries dependent on the
civilised ones, nations of peasants on nations of bourgeois, the East on the West.
The bourgeoisie keeps more and more doing away with the scattered state of the population, of
the means of production, and of property. It has agglomerated population, centralised the means
of production, and has concentrated property in a few hands. The necessary consequence of this
was political centralisation. Independent, or but looseM
ly connected provinces, with separate
interests, laws, governments, and systems of taxation, became lumped together into one nation,
with one government, one code of laws, one national class-interest, one frontier, and one
The bourgeoisie, during its rule of scarce one hundred years, has created more massive and more
colossal productive forces than have all preceding generations together. Subjection of Nature
forces to man, machinery, application of chemistry to industry and agriculture, M
railways, electric telegraphs, clearing of whole continents for cultivation, canalisation of rivers,
whole populations conjured out of the ground - what earlier century had even a presentiment that
such productive forces slumbered in the lap of social labour?
We see then: the means of production and of exchange, on whose foundation the bourgeoisie built
itself up, were generated in feudal society. At a certain stage in the development of these means
of production and of exchange, the conditM
ions under which feudal society produced and
exchanged, the feudal organisation of agriculture and manufacturing industry, in one word, the
feudal relations of property became no longer compatible with the already developed productive
forces; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder; they were burst asunder.
Into their place stepped free competition, accompanied by a social and political constitution
adapted in it, and the economic and political sway of the bourgeois class.
nt is going on before our own eyes. Modem bourgeois society, with its
relations of production, of exchange and of property, a society that has conjured up such gigantic
means of production and of exchange, is like the sorcerer who is no longer able to control the
powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells. For many a decade past the
history of industry and commerce is but the history of the revolt of modem productive forces
against modem conditions of production, against the property relatiM
ons that are the conditions for
the existence of the bourgeois and of its rule. It is enough to mention the commercial crises that
by their periodical return put the existence of the entire bourgeois society on its trial, each time
more threateningly. In these crises, a great part not only of the existing products, but also of the
previously created productive forces, are periodically destroyed. In these crises, there breaks out
an epidemic that, in all earlier epochs, would have seemed an absurdity - the epidM
production. Society suddenly finds itself put back into a state of momentary barbarism; it appears
as if a famine, a universal war of devastation, had cut off the supply of every means of
subsistence; industry and commerce seem to be destroyed; and why? Because there is too much
civilisation, too much means of subsistence, too much industry, too much commerce. The
productive forces at the disposal of society no longer tend to further the development of the
conditions of bourgeois property; on tM
he contrary, they have become too powerful for these
conditions, by which they are fettered, and so soon as they overcome these fetters, they bring
disorder into the whole of bourgeois society, endanger the existence of bourgeois property. The
conditions of bourgeois society are too narrow to comprise the wealth created by them. And how
does the bourgeoisie get over these crises? On the one hand by enforced destruction of a mass of
productive forces; on the other, by the conquest of new markets, and by the morM
exploitation of the old ones. That is to say, by paving the way for more extensive and more
destructive crises, and by diminishing the means whereby crises are prevented.
Manifesto of the Communist Party
The weapons with which the bourgeoisie felled feudalism to the ground are now turned against
the bourgeoisie itself.
But not only has the bourgeoisie forged the weapons that bring death to itself; it has also called
into existence the men who are to wield those weapons - the modem workM
In proportion as the bourgeoisie, i.e., capital, is developed, in the same proportion is the
proletariat, the modem working class, developed - a class of labourers, who live only so long as
they find work, and who find work only so long as their labour increases capital. These labourers,
who must sell themselves piecemeal, are a commodity, like every other article of commerce, and
are consequently exposed to all the vicissitudes of competition, to all the fluctuations of the
Owing to the extensive use of machinery, and to the division of labour, the work of the
proletarians has lost all individual character, and, consequently, all charm for the workman. He
becomes an appendage of the machine, and it is only the most simple, most monotonous, and
most easily acquired knack, that is required of him. Hence, the cost of production of a workman is
restricted, almost entirely, to the means of subsistence that he requires for maintenance, and for
the propagation of his race. But tM
he price of a commodity, and therefore also of labour, is equal to
its cost of production. In proportion, therefore, as the repulsiveness of the work increases, the
wage decreases. Nay more, in proportion as the use of machinery and division of labour
increases, in the same proportion the burden of toil also increases, whether by prolongation of the
working hours, by the increase of the work exacted in a given time or by increased speed of
Modem Industry has converted the little workshop of tM
he patriarchal master into the great factory
of the industrial capitalist. Masses of labourers, crowded into the factory, are organised like
soldiers. As privates of the industrial army they are placed under the command of a perfect
hierarchy of officers and sergeants. Not only are they slaves of the bourgeois class, and of the
bourgeois State; they are daily and hourly enslaved by the machine, by the overlooker, and, above
all, by the individual bourgeois manufacturer himself. The more openly this despotism pM
gain to be its end and aim, the more petty, the more hateful and the more embittering it is.
The less the skill and exertion of strength implied in manual labour, in other words, the more
modem industry becomes developed, the more is the labour of men superseded by that of women.
Differences of age and sex have no longer any distinctive social validity for the working class.
All are instruments of labour, more or less expensive to use, according to their age and sex.
No sooner is the exploitation oM
f the labourer by the manufacturer, so far, at an end, that he
receives his wages in cash, than he is set upon by the other portions of the bourgeoisie, the
landlord, the shopkeeper, the pawnbroker, etc.
The lower strata of the middle class - the small tradespeople, shopkeepers, and retired tradesmen
generally, the handicraftsmen and peasants - all these sink gradually into the proletariat, partly
because their diminutive capital does not suffice for the scale on which Modem Industry is
carried on, and is swM
amped in the competition with the large capitalists, partly because their
specialised skill is rendered worthless by new methods of production. Thus the proletariat is
recruited from all classes of the population.
The proletariat goes through various stages of development. With its birth begins its struggle with
the bourgeoisie. At first the contest is carried on by individual labourers, then by the workpeople
of a factory, then by the operative of one trade, in one locality, against the individual bourgeois M
who directly exploits them. They direct their attacks not against the bourgeois conditions of
production, but against the instruments of production themselves; they destroy imported wares
that compete with their labour, they smash to pieces machinery, they set factories ablaze, they
seek to restore by force the vanished status of the workman of the Middle Ages.
Manifesto of the Communist Party
At this stage, the labourers still form an incoherent mass scattered over the whole country, and
p by their mutual competition. If anywhere they unite to form more compact bodies, this
is not yet the consequence of their own active union, but of the union of the bourgeoisie, which
class, in order to attain its own political ends, is compelled to set the whole proletariat in motion,
and is moreover yet, for a time, able to do so. At this stage, therefore, the proletarians do not fight
their enemies, but the enemies of their enemies, the remnants of absolute monarchy, the
landowners, the non-industrial bourM
geois, the petty bourgeois. Thus, the whole historical
movement is concentrated in the hands of the bourgeoisie; every victory so obtained is a victory
for the bourgeoisie.
But with the development of industry, the proletariat not only increases in number; it becomes
concentrated in greater masses, its strength grows, and it feels that strength more. The various
interests and conditions of life within the ranks of the proletariat are more and more equalised, in
proportion as machinery obliterates all distincM
tions of labour, and nearly everywhere reduces
wages to the same low level. The growing competition among the bourgeois, and the resulting
commercial crises, make the wages of the workers ever more fluctuating. The increasing
improvement of machinery, ever more rapidly developing, makes their livelihood more and more
precarious; the collisions between individual workmen and individual bourgeois take more and
more the character of collisions between two classes. Thereupon, the workers begin to form
 Unions) against the bourgeois; they club together in order to keep up the
rate of wages; they found permanent associations in order to make provision beforehand for these
occasional revolts. Here and there, the contest breaks out into riots.
Now and then the workers are victorious, but only for a time. The real fruit of their battles lies,
not in the immediate result, but in the ever expanding union of the workers. This union is helped
on by the improved means of communication that are created byM
 modem industry, and that place
the workers of different localities in contact with one another. It was just this contact that was
needed to centralise the numerous local struggles, all of the same character, into one national
struggle between classes. But every class struggle is a political struggle. And that union, to attain
which the burghers of the Middle Ages, with their miserable highways, required centuries, the
modem proletarian, thanks to railways, achieve in a few years.
This organisation of the prM
oletarians into a class, and, consequently into a political party, is
continually being upset again by the competition between the workers themselves. But it ever
rises up again, stronger, firmer, mightier. It compels legislative recognition of particular interests
of the workers, by taking advantage of the divisions among the bourgeoisie itself. Thus, the ten-
 bill in England was carried.
Altogether collisions between the classes of the old society further, in many ways, the course of
f the proletariat. The bourgeoisie finds itself involved in a constant battle. At first
with the aristocracy; later on, with those portions of the bourgeoisie itself, whose interests have
become antagonistic to the progress of industry; at all time with the bourgeoisie of foreign
countries. In all these battles, it sees itself compelled to appeal to the proletariat, to ask for help,
and thus, to drag it into the political arena. The bourgeoisie itself, therefore, supplies the
proletariat with its own elements M
of political and general education, in other words, it furnishes
the proletariat with weapons for fighting the bourgeoisie.
Further, as we have already seen, entire sections of the mling class are, by the advance of
industry, precipitated into the proletariat, or are at least threatened in their conditions of existence.
These also supply the proletariat with fresh elements of enlightenment and progress.
Finally, in times when the class struggle nears the decisive hour, the progress of dissolution going
ithin the mling class, in fact within the whole range of old society, assumes such a violent,
glaring character, that a small section of the mling class cuts itself adrift, and joins the
revolutionary class, the class that holds the future in its hands. Just as, therefore, at an earlier
Manifesto of the Communist Party
period, a section of the nobility went over to the bourgeoisie, so now a portion of the bourgeoisie
goes over to the proletariat, and in particular, a portion of the bourgeois ideologM
raised themselves to the level of comprehending theoretically the historical movement as a whole.
Of all the classes that stand face to face with the bourgeoisie today, the proletariat alone is a
really revolutionary class. The other classes decay and finally disappear in the face of Modem
Industry; the proletariat is its special and essential product.
The lower middle class, the small manufacturer, the shopkeeper, the artisan, the peasant, all these
fight against the bourgeoisie, to save fromM
 extinction their existence as fractions of the middle
class. They are therefore not revolutionary, but conservative. Nay more, they are reactionary, for
they try to roll back the wheel of history. If by chance, they are revolutionary, they are only so in
view of their impending transfer into the proletariat; they thus defend not their present, but their
future interests, they desert their own standpoint to place themselves at that of the proletariat.
, [ lumpenproletariat ] the sociaM
l scum, that passively rotting mass thrown
off by the lowest layers of the old society, may, here and there, be swept into the movement by a
proletarian revolution; its conditions of life, however, prepare it far more for the part of a bribed
tool of reactionary intrigue.
In the condition of the proletariat, those of old society at large are already virtually swamped. The
proletarian is without property; his relation to his wife and children has no longer anything in
common with the bourgeois family relationM
s; modem industry labour, modem subjection to
capital, the same in England as in France, in America as in Germany, has stripped him of every
trace of national character. Law, morality, religion, are to him so many bourgeois prejudices,
behind which lurk in ambush just as many bourgeois interests.
All the preceding classes that got the upper hand sought to fortify their already acquired status by
subjecting society at large to their conditions of appropriation. The proletarians cannot become
oductive forces of society, except by abolishing their own previous mode of
appropriation, and thereby also every other previous mode of appropriation. They have nothing of
their own to secure and to fortify; their mission is to destroy all previous securities for, and
insurances of, individual property.
All previous historical movements were movements of minorities, or in the interest of minorities.
The proletarian movement is the self-conscious, independent movement of the immense majority,
 of the immense majority. The proletariat, the lowest stratum of our present society,
cannot stir, cannot raise itself up, without the whole superincumbent strata of official society
being sprung into the air.
Though not in substance, yet in form, the struggle of the proletariat with the bourgeoisie is at first
a national struggle. The proletariat of each country must, of course, first of all settle matters with
its own bourgeoisie.
In depicting the most general phases of the development of the proletariat,M
 we traced the more or
less veiled civil war, raging within existing society, up to the point where that war breaks out into
open revolution, and where the violent overthrow of the bourgeoisie lays the foundation for the
sway of the proletariat.
Hitherto, every form of society has been based, as we have already seen, on the antagonism of
oppressing and oppressed classes. But in order to oppress a class, certain conditions must be
assured to it under which it can, at least, continue its slavish existence. TheM
 serf, in the period of
serfdom, raised himself to membership in the commune, just as the petty bourgeois, under the
yoke of the feudal absolutism, managed to develop into a bourgeois. The modem labourer, on the
contrary, instead of rising with the process of industry, sinks deeper and deeper below the
conditions of existence of his own class. He becomes a pauper, and pauperism develops more
rapidly than population and wealth. And here it becomes evident, that the bourgeoisie is unfit any
longer to be the rulM
ing class in society, and to impose its conditions of existence upon society as
Manifesto of the Communist Party
an over-riding law. It is unfit to rule because it is incompetent to assure an existence to its slave
within his slavery, because it cannot help letting him sink into such a state, that it has to feed him,
instead of being fed by him. Society can no longer live under this bourgeoisie, in other words, its
existence is no longer compatible with society.
The essential conditions for the exM
istence and for the sway of the bourgeois class is the formation
and augmentation of capital; the condition for capital is wage-labour. Wage-labour rests
exclusively on competition between the labourers. The advance of industry, whose involuntary
promoter is the bourgeoisie, replaces the isolation of the labourers, due to competition, by the
revolutionary combination, due to association. The development of Modem Industry, therefore,
cuts from under its feet the very foundation on which the bourgeoisie producesM
products. What the bourgeoisie therefore produces, above all, are its own grave-diggers. Its fall
and the victory of the proletariat are equally inevitable.
II. Proletarians and Communists
In what relation do the Communists stand to the proletarians as a whole?
The Communists do not form a separate party opposed to the other working-class parties.
They have no interests separate and apart from those of the proletariat as a whole.
They do not set up any sectarian principles of their M
own, by which to shape and mould the
proletarian movement.
The Communists are distinguished from the other working-class parties by this only: 1. In the
national struggles of the proletarians of the different countries, they point out and bring to the
front the common interests of the entire proletariat, independently of all nationality. 2. In the
various stages of development which the struggle of the working class against the bourgeoisie has
to pass through, they always and everywhere represent the interesM
ts of the movement as a whole.
The Communists, therefore, are on the one hand, practically, the most advanced and resolute
section of the working-class parties of every country, that section which pushes forward all
others; on the other hand, theoretically, they have over the great mass of the proletariat the
advantage of clearly understanding the line of march, the conditions, and the ultimate general
results of the proletarian movement.
The immediate aim of the Communists is the same as that of all other M
proletarian parties:
formation of the proletariat into a class, overthrow of the bourgeois supremacy, conquest of
political power by the proletariat.
The theoretical conclusions of the Communists are in no way based on ideas or principles that
have been invented, or discovered, by this or that would-be universal reformer.
They merely express, in general terms, actual relations springing from an existing class struggle,
from a historical movement going on under our very eyes. The abolition of existing properM
relations is not at all a distinctive feature of communism.
All property relations in the past have continually been subject to historical change consequent
upon the change in historical conditions.
The French Revolution, for example, abolished feudal property in favour of bourgeois property.
The distinguishing feature of Communism is not the abolition of property generally, but the
abolition of bourgeois property. But modern bourgeois private property is the final and most
complete expression of the syM
stem of producing and appropriating products, that is based on class
antagonisms, on the exploitation of the many by the few.
In this sense, the theory of the Communists may be summed up in the single sentence: Abolition
of private property.
We Communists have been reproached with the desire of abolishing the right of personally
acquiring property as the fruit of a man
s own labour, which property is alleged to be the
groundwork of all personal freedom, activity and independence.
Hard-won, self-acquiredM
, self-earned property! Do you mean the property of petty artisan and of
the small peasant, a form of property that preceded the bourgeois form? There is no need to
abolish that; the development of industry has to a great extent already destroyed it, and is still
destroying it daily.
Or do you mean the modem bourgeois private property?
But does wage-labour create any property for the labourer? Not a bit. It creates capital, i. e ., that
kind of property which exploits wage-labour, and which cannot increase M
except upon condition of
begetting a new supply of wage-labour for fresh exploitation. Property, in its present form, is
Chapter II: Proletarians and Communists
based on the antagonism of capital and wage labour. Let us examine both sides of this
To be a capitalist, is to have not only a purely personal, but a social status in production. Capital
is a collective product, and only by the united action of many members, nay, in the last resort,
only by the united action of all members ofM
 society, can it be set in motion.
Capital is therefore not only personal; it is a social power.
When, therefore, capital is converted into common property, into the property of all members of
society, personal property is not thereby transformed into social property. It is only the social
character of the property that is changed. It loses its class character.
Let us now take wage-labour.
The average price of wage-labour is the minimum wage, i. e ., that quantum of the means of
subsistence which is absoM
lutely requisite to keep the labourer in bare existence as a labourer.
What, therefore, the wage-labourer appropriates by means of his labour, merely suffices to
prolong and reproduce a bare existence. We by no means intend to abolish this personal
appropriation of the products of labour, an appropriation that is made for the maintenance and
reproduction of human life, and that leaves no surplus wherewith to command the labour of
others. All that we want to do away with is the miserable character of this approM
which the labourer lives merely to increase capital, and is allowed to live only in so far as the
interest of the ruling class requires it.
In bourgeois society, living labour is but a means to increase accumulated labour. In Communist
society, accumulated labour is but a means to widen, to enrich, to promote the existence of the
In bourgeois society, therefore, the past dominates the present; in Communist society, the present
dominates the past. In bourgeois society capital is inM
dependent and has individuality, while the
living person is dependent and has no individuality.
And the abolition of this state of things is called by the bourgeois, abolition of individuality and
freedom! And rightly so. The abolition of bourgeois individuality, bourgeois independence, and
bourgeois freedom is undoubtedly aimed at.
By freedom is meant, under the present bourgeois conditions of production, free trade, free
selling and buying.
But if selling and buying disappears, free selling and buying dM
isappears also. This talk about free
selling and buying, and all the other
 of our bourgeois about freedom in general,
have a meaning, if any, only in contrast with restricted selling and buying, with the fettered
traders of the Middle Ages, but have no meaning when opposed to the Communistic abolition of
buying and selling, of the bourgeois conditions of production, and of the bourgeoisie itself.
You are horrified at our intending to do away with private property. But in your existing societM
private property is already done away with for nine-tenths of the population; its existence for the
few is solely due to its non-existence in the hands of those nine-tenths. You reproach us,
therefore, with intending to do away with a form of property, the necessary condition for whose
existence is the non-existence of any property for the immense majority of society.
In one word, you reproach us with intending to do away with your property. Precisely so; that is
just what we intend.
From the moment wheM
n labour can no longer be converted into capital, money, or rent, into a
social power capable of being monopolised, i.e., from the moment when individual property can
no longer be transformed into bourgeois property, into capital, from that moment, you say,
individuality vanishes.
Chapter II: Proletarians and Communists
You must, therefore, confess that by
 you mean no other person than the bourgeois,
than the middle-class owner of property. This person must, indeed, be swept out ofM
Communism deprives no man of the power to appropriate the products of society; all that it does
is to deprive him of the power to subjugate the labour of others by means of such appropriations.
It has been objected that upon the abolition of private property, all work will cease, and universal
laziness will overtake us.
According to this, bourgeois society ought long ago to have gone to the dogs through sheer
idleness; for those of its members who work, acquire nothing, and M
those who acquire anything do
not work. The whole of this objection is but another expression of the tautology: that there can no
longer be any wage-labour when there is no longer any capital.
All objections urged against the Communistic mode of producing and appropriating material
products, have, in the same way, been urged against the Communistic mode of producing and
appropriating intellectual products. Just as, to the bourgeois, the disappearance of class property
is the disappearance of production itselM
f, so the disappearance of class culture is to him identical
with the disappearance of all culture.
That culture, the loss of which he laments, is, for the enormous majority, a mere training to act as
t wrangle with us so long as you apply, to our intended abolition of bourgeois property,
the standard of your bourgeois notions of freedom, culture, law, &c. Your very ideas are but the
outgrowth of the conditions of your bourgeois production and bourgeois property, just as your
ence is but the will of your class made into a law for all, a will whose essential character
and direction are determined by the economical conditions of existence of your class.
The selfish misconception that induces you to transform into eternal laws of nature and of reason,
the social forms springing from your present mode of production and form of property -
historical relations that rise and disappear in the progress of production - this misconception you
share with every ruling class that has preceded yM
ou. What you see clearly in the case of ancient
property, what you admit in the case of feudal property, you are of course forbidden to admit in
the case of your own bourgeois form of property.
Abolition [ Aufhebung] of the family! Even the most radical flare up at this infamous proposal of
On what foundation is the present family, the bourgeois family, based? On capital, on private
gain. In its completely developed form, this family exists only among the bourgeoisie. But this
gs finds its complement in the practical absence of the family among the proletarians,
and in public prostitution.
The bourgeois family will vanish as a matter of course when its complement vanishes, and both
will vanish with the vanishing of capital.
Do you charge us with wanting to stop the exploitation of children by their parents? To this crime
But, you say, we destroy the most hallowed of relations, when we replace home education by
And your education! Is not that also sociM
al, and determined by the social conditions under which
you educate, by the intervention direct or indirect, of society, by means of schools, &c.? The
Communists have not invented the intervention of society in education; they do but seek to alter
the character of that intervention, and to rescue education from the influence of the ruling class.
The bourgeois clap-trap about the family and education, about the hallowed co-relation of parents
and child, becomes all the more disgusting, the more, by the action oM
f Modem Industry, all the
Chapter II: Proletarians and Communists
family ties among the proletarians are torn asunder, and their children transformed into simple
articles of commerce and instruments of labour.
But you Communists would introduce community of women, screams the bourgeoisie in chorus.
The bourgeois sees his wife a mere instrument of production. He hears that the instruments of
production are to be exploited in common, and, naturally, can come to no other conclusion that
eing common to all will likewise fall to the women.
He has not even a suspicion that the real point aimed at is to do away with the status of women as
mere instruments of production.
For the rest, nothing is more ridiculous than the virtuous indignation of our bourgeois at the
community of women which, they pretend, is to be openly and officially established by the
Communists. The Communists have no need to introduce community of women; it has existed
almost from time immemorial.
Our bourgeois, not contenM
t with having wives and daughters of their proletarians at their disposal,
not to speak of common prostitutes, take the greatest pleasure in seducing each other
Bourgeois marriage is, in reality, a system of wives in common and thus, at the most, what the
Communists might possibly be reproached with is that they desire to introduce, in substitution for
a hypocritically concealed, an openly legalised community of women. For the rest, it is self-
evident that the abolition of the present system of proM
duction must bring with it the abolition of
the community of women springing from that system, i. e ., of prostitution both public and private.
The Communists are further reproached with desiring to abolish countries and nationality.
The working men have no country. We cannot take from them what they have not got. Since the
proletariat must first of all acquire political supremacy, must rise to be the leading class of the
nation, must constitute itself the nation, it is so far, itself national, though not inM
National differences and antagonism between peoples are daily more and more vanishing, owing
to the development of the bourgeoisie, to freedom of commerce, to the world market, to
uniformity in the mode of production and in the conditions of life corresponding thereto.
The supremacy of the proletariat will cause them to vanish still faster. United action, of the
leading civilised countries at least, is one of the first conditions for the emancipation of the
In proportion as the exploitation of one individual by another will also be put an end to, the
exploitation of one nation by another will also be put an end to. In proportion as the antagonism
between classes within the nation vanishes, the hostility of one nation to another will come to an
The charges against Communism made from a religious, a philosophical and, generally, from an
ideological standpoint, are not deserving of serious examination.
Does it require deep intuition to comprehend that man
s ideas, views, and conception, in one
s consciousness, changes with every change in the conditions of his material
existence, in his social relations and in his social life?
What else does the history of ideas prove, than that intellectual production changes its character
in proportion as material production is changed? The ruling ideas of each age have ever been the
ideas of its ruling class.
When people speak of the ideas that revolutionise society, they do but express that fact that
the old society the elements of a new one have been created, and that the dissolution of the
old ideas keeps even pace with the dissolution of the old conditions of existence.
When the ancient world was in its last throes, the ancient religions were overcome by
Christianity. When Christian ideas succumbed in the 18th century to rationalist ideas, feudal
Chapter II: Proletarians and Communists
society fought its death battle with the then revolutionary bourgeoisie. The ideas of religious
d freedom of conscience merely gave expression to the sway of free competition within
the domain of knowledge.
religious, moral, philosophical, and juridical ideas have been
modified in the course of historical development. But religion, morality, philosophy, political
science, and law, constantly survived this change.
There are, besides, eternal truths, such as Freedom, Justice, etc., that are common to all states of
society. But Communism abolishes eternal trutM
hs, it abolishes all religion, and all morality,
instead of constituting them on a new basis; it therefore acts in contradiction to all past historical
What does this accusation reduce itself to? The history of all past society has consisted in the
development of class antagonisms, antagonisms that assumed different forms at different epochs.
But whatever form they may have taken, one fact is common to all past ages, viz., the exploitation
of one part of society by the other. No wonder, then, M
that the social consciousness of past ages,
despite all the multiplicity and variety it displays, moves within certain common forms, or general
ideas, which cannot completely vanish except with the total disappearance of class antagonisms.
The Communist revolution is the most radical rupture with traditional property relations; no
wonder that its development involved the most radical rupture with traditional ideas.
But let us have done with the bourgeois objections to Communism.
We have seen above, that theM
 first step in the revolution by the working class is to raise the
proletariat to the position of ruling class to win the battle of democracy.
The proletariat will use its political supremacy to wrest, by degree, all capital from the
bourgeoisie, to centralise all instruments of production in the hands of the State, i. e ., of the
proletariat organised as the ruling class; and to increase the total productive forces as rapidly as
Of course, in the beginning, this cannot be effected except by meansM
 of despotic inroads on the
rights of property, and on the conditions of bourgeois production; by means of measures,
therefore, which appear economically insufficient and untenable, but which, in the course of the
movement, outstrip themselves, necessitate further inroads upon the old social order, and are
unavoidable as a means of entirely revolutionising the mode of production.
These measures will, of course, be different in different countries.
Nevertheless, in most advanced countries, the following willM
 be pretty generally applicable.
1. Abolition of property in land and application of all rents of land to public
2. A heavy progressive or graduated income tax.
3. Abolition of all rights of inheritance.
4. Confiscation of the property of all emigrants and rebels.
5. Centralisation of credit in the hands of the state, by means of a national ha nk
with State capital and an exclusive monopoly.
6. Centralisation of the means of communication and transport in the hands of the
ion of factories and instruments of production owned by the State; the
bringing into cultivation of waste-lands, and the improvement of the soil generally
in accordance with a common plan.
8. Equal liability of all to work. Establishment of industrial armies, especially for
9. Combination of agriculture with manufacturing industries; gradual abolition of
all the distinction between town and country by a more equable distribution of the
Chapter II: Proletarians and Communists
ce over the country.
10. Free education for all children in public schools. Abolition of children
factory labour in its present form. Combination of education with industrial
production, &c, &c.
When, in the course of development, class distinctions have disappeared, and all production has
been concentrated in the hands of a vast association of the whole nation, the public power will
lose its political character. Political power, properly so called, is merely the organised power of
one class for oppresM
sing another. If the proletariat during its contest with the bourgeoisie is
compelled, by the force of circumstances, to organise itself as a class, if, by means of a
revolution, it makes itself the ruling class, and, as such, sweeps away by force the old conditions
of production, then it will, along with these conditions, have swept away the conditions for the
existence of class antagonisms and of classes generally, and will thereby have abolished its own
supremacy as a class.
In place of the old bourgeois M
society, with its classes and class antagonisms, we shall have an
association, in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of
III. Socialist and Communist Literature
1. Reactionary Socialism
A. Feudal Socialism
Owing to their historical position, it became the vocation of the aristocracies of France and
England to write pamphlets against modem bourgeois society. In the French Revolution of July
1830, and in the English reform agitation 4 , these aristocracies aM
gain succumbed to the hateful
upstart. Thenceforth, a serious political struggle was altogether out of the question. A literary
battle alone remained possible. But even in the domain of literature the old cries of the restoration
period had become impossible.*
In order to arouse sympathy, the aristocracy was obliged to lose sight, apparently, of its own
interests, and to formulate their indictment against the bourgeoisie in the interest of the exploited
working class alone. Thus, the aristocracy took their rM
evenge by singing lampoons on their new
masters and whispering in his ears sinister prophesies of coming catastrophe.
In this way arose feudal Socialism: half lamentation, half lampoon; half an echo of the past, half
menace of the future; at times, by its bitter, witty and incisive criticism, striking the bourgeoisie
s core; but always ludicrous in its effect, through total incapacity to comprehend
the march of modem history.
The aristocracy, in order to rally the people to them, waved tM
he proletarian alms-bag in front for a
banner. But the people, so often as it joined them, saw on their hindquarters the old feudal coats
of arms, and deserted with loud and irreverent laughter.
One section of the French Legitimists and
 exhibited this spectacle.
In pointing out that their mode of exploitation was different to that of the bourgeoisie, the
feudalists forget that they exploited under circumstances and conditions that were quite different
and that are now antiquated. In showM
ing that, under their rule, the modem proletariat never
existed, they forget that the modem bourgeoisie is the necessary offspring of their own form of
For the rest, so little do they conceal the reactionary character of their criticism that their chief
accusation against the bourgeois amounts to this, that under the bourgeois regime a class is being
developed which is destined to cut up root and branch the old order of society.
What they upbraid the bourgeoisie with is not so much that it creates M
a proletariat as that it creates
a revolutionary proletariat.
In political practice, therefore, they join in all coercive measures against the working class; and in
ordinary life, despite their high-falutin phrases, they stoop to pick up the golden apples dropped
from the tree of industry, and to barter truth, love, and honour, for traffic in wool, beetroot-sugar,
and potato spirits. 1
As the parson has ever gone hand in hand with the landlord, so has Clerical Socialism with
glish Restoration (1660-1689), but the French Restoration (1814-1830). [Note by Engels to the English
+ This applies chiefly to Germany, where the landed aristocracy and squirearchy have large portions of their estates
cultivated for their own account by stewards, and are, moreover, extensive beetroot-sugar manufacturers and distillers
of potato spirits. The wealthier British aristocracy are, as yet, rather above that; but they, too, know how to make up for
declining rents by lending their nM
ames to floaters or more or less shady joint-stock companies. [Note by Engels to the
English edition of 1888.]
Chapter III: Socialist and Communist Literature
Nothing is easier than to give Christian asceticism a Socialist tinge. Has not Christianity
declaimed against private property, against marriage, against the State? Has it not preached in the
place of these, charity and poverty, celibacy and mortification of the flesh, monastic life and
Mother Church? Christian Socialism is but the holy waterM
 with which the priest consecrates the
heart-burnings of the aristocrat.
B. Petty-Bourgeois Socialism
The feudal aristocracy was not the only class that was ruined by the bourgeoisie, not the only
class whose conditions of existence pined and perished in the atmosphere of modern bourgeois
society. The medieval burgesses and the small peasant proprietors were the precursors of the
modem bourgeoisie. In those countries which are but little developed, industrially and
commercially, these two classes still vegM
etate side by side with the rising bourgeoisie.
In countries where modem civilisation has become fully developed, a new class of petty
bourgeois has been formed, fluctuating between proletariat and bourgeoisie, and ever renewing
itself as a supplementary part of bourgeois society. The individual members of this class,
however, are being constantly hurled down into the proletariat by the action of competition, and,
as modem industry develops, they even see the moment approaching when they will completely
ppear as an independent section of modem society, to be replaced in manufactures,
agriculture and commerce, by overlookers, bailiffs and shopmen.
In countries like France, where the peasants constitute far more than half of the population, it was
natural that writers who sided with the proletariat against the bourgeoisie should use, in their
criticism of the bourgeois regime, the standard of the peasant and petty bourgeois, and from the
standpoint of these intermediate classes, should take up the cudgels for M
the working class. Thus
arose petty-bourgeois Socialism. Sismondi was the head of this school, not only in France but
This school of Socialism dissected with great acuteness the contradictions in the conditions of
modem production. It laid bare the hypocritical apologies of economists. It proved,
incontrovertibly, the disastrous effects of machinery and division of labour; the concentration of
capital and land in a few hands; overproduction and crises; it pointed out the inevitable min of thM
petty bourgeois and peasant, the misery of the proletariat, the anarchy in production, the crying
inequalities in the distribution of wealth, the industrial war of extermination between nations, the
dissolution of old moral bonds, of the old family relations, of the old nationalities.
In its positive aims, however, this form of Socialism aspires either to restoring the old means of
production and of exchange, and with them the old property relations, and the old society, or to
cramping the modem means of pM
roduction and of exchange within the framework of the old
property relations that have been, and were bound to be, exploded by those means. In either case,
it is both reactionary and Utopian.
Its last words are: coiporate guilds for manufacture; patriarchal relations in agriculture.
Ultimately, when stubborn historical facts had dispersed all intoxicating effects of self-deception,
this form of Socialism ended in a miserable fit of the blues.
The Socialist and Communist M
literature of France, a literature that originated under the pressure
of a bourgeoisie in power, and that was the expressions of the struggle against this power, was
introduced into Germany at a time when the bourgeoisie, in that country, had just begun its
contest with feudal absolutism.
German philosophers, would-be philosophers, and beaux esprits (men of letters), eagerly seized
on this literature, only forgetting, that when these writings immigrated from France into
Germany, French social conditions had M
not immigrated along with them. In contact with German
Chapter III: Socialist and Communist Literature
social conditions, this French literature lost all its immediate practical significance and assumed a
purely literary aspect. Thus, to the German philosophers of the Eighteenth Century, the demands
of the first French Revolution were nothing more than the demands of
general, and the utterance of the will of the revolutionary French bourgeoisie signified, in their
e laws of pure Will, of Will as it was bound to be, of true human Will generally.
The work of the German literati consisted solely in bringing the new French ideas into harmony
with their ancient philosophical conscience, or rather, in annexing the French ideas without
deserting their own philosophic point of view.
This annexation took place in the same way in which a foreign language is appropriated, namely,
It is well known how the monks wrote silly lives of Catholic Saints over the manusM
which the classical works of ancient heathendom had been written. The German literati reversed
this process with the profane French literature. They wrote their philosophical nonsense beneath
the French original. For instance, beneath the French criticism of the economic functions of
Alienation of Humanity
, and beneath the French criticism of the bourgeois
Dethronement of the C ategory of the General
The introduction of these philosophicM
al phrases at the back of the French historical criticisms,
Philosophy of Action
German Science of Socialism
Philosophical Foundation of Socialism
The French Socialist and Communist literature was thus completely emasculated. And, since it
ceased in the hands of the German to express the struggle of one class with the other, he felt
conscious of having overcome
French one-sidedness
 and of representing, not true requirements,
irements of Truth; not the interests of the proletariat, but the interests of Human
Nature, of Man in general, who belongs to no class, has no reality, who exists only in the misty
realm of philosophical fantasy.
This German socialism, which took its schoolboy task so seriously and solemnly, and extolled its
poor stock-in-trade in such a mountebank fashion, meanwhile gradually lost its pedantic
The fight of the Germans, and especially of the Prussian bourgeoisie, against feudal aristocracy
bsolute monarchy, in other words, the liberal movement, became more earnest.
By this, the long-wished for opportunity was offered to
 Socialism of confronting the
political movement with the Socialist demands, of hurling the traditional anathemas against
liberalism, against representative government, against bourgeois competition, bourgeois freedom
of the press, bourgeois legislation, bourgeois liberty and equality, and of preaching to the masses
that they had nothing to gain, and everything to loseM
, by this bourgeois movement. German
Socialism forgot, in the nick of time, that the French criticism, whose silly echo it was,
presupposed the existence of modem bourgeois society, with its corresponding economic
conditions of existence, and the political constitution adapted thereto, the very things those
attainment was the object of the pending struggle in Germany.
To the absolute governments, with their following of parsons, professors, country squires, and
officials, it served as a welcome scarecrow agaM
inst the threatening bourgeoisie.
It was a sweet finish, after the bitter pills of flogging and bullets, with which these same
governments, just at that time, dosed the German working-class risings.
 Socialism thus served the government as a weapon for fighting the German
bourgeoisie, it, at the same time, directly represented a reactionary interest, the interest of German
Philistines. In Germany, the petty-bourgeois class, a relic of the sixteenth century, and since then
pping up again under the various forms, is the real social basis of the existing state
Chapter III: Socialist and Communist Literature
To preserve this class is to preserve the existing state of things in Germany. The industrial and
political supremacy of the bourgeoisie threatens it with certain destruction - on the one hand,
from the concentration of capital; on the other, from the rise of a revolutionary proletariat.
Socialism appeared to kill these two birds with one stoneM
. It spread like an epidemic.
The robe of speculative cobwebs, embroidered with flowers of rhetoric, steeped in the dew of
sickly sentiment, this transcendental robe in which the German Socialists wrapped their sorry
, all skin and bone, served to wonderfully increase the sale of their goods amongst
And on its part German Socialism recognised, more and more, its own calling as the bombastic
representative of the petty-bourgeois Philistine.
It proclaimed the German nationM
 to be the model nation, and the German petty Philistine to be the
typical man. To every villainous meanness of this model man, it gave a hidden, higher, Socialistic
interpretation, the exact contrary of its real character. It went to the extreme length of directly
brutally destructive
 tendency of Communism, and of proclaiming its supreme and
impartial contempt of all class struggles. With very few exceptions, all the so-called Socialist and
Communist publications that now (1847) circulate iM
n Germany belong to the domain of this foul
and enervating literature.
2. Conservative or Bourgeois Socialism
A part of the bourgeoisie is desirous of redressing social grievances in order to secure the
continued existence of bourgeois society.
To this section belong economists, philanthropists, humanitarians, improvers of the condition of
the working class, organisers of charity, members of societies for the prevention of cruelty to
animals, temperance fanatics, hole-and-corner reformers of every imaginaM
ble kind. This form of
socialism has, moreover, been worked out into complete systems.
We may cite Proudhon
s Philosophie de la Misere as an example of this form.
The Socialistic bourgeois want all the advantages of modem social conditions without the
struggles and dangers necessarily resulting therefrom. They desire the existing state of society,
minus its revolutionary and disintegrating elements. They wish for a bourgeoisie without a
proletariat. The bourgeoisie naturally conceives the world in which iM
t is supreme to be the best;
and bourgeois Socialism develops this comfortable conception into various more or less complete
systems. In requiring the proletariat to carry out such a system, and thereby to march straightway
into the social New Jerusalem, it but requires in reality, that the proletariat should remain within
the bounds of existing society, but should cast away all its hateful ideas concerning the
A second, and more practical, but less systematic, form of this Socialism sought to dM
every revolutionary movement in the eyes of the working class by showing that no mere political
reform, but only a change in the material conditions of existence, in economical relations, could
be of any advantage to them. By changes in the material conditions of existence, this form of
Socialism, however, by no means understands abolition of the bourgeois relations of production,
an abolition that can be affected only by a revolution, but administrative reforms, based on the
continued existence of M
these relations; reforms, therefore, that in no respect affect the relations
between capital and labour, but, at the best, lessen the cost, and simplify the administrative work,
of bourgeois government.
The revolutionary storm of 1848 swept away this whole shabby tendency and cured its protagonists of the desire to
dabble in socialism. The chief representative and classical type of this tendency is Mr Karl Gruen. [Note by Engels to
the Gennan edition of 1890.]
Chapter III: Socialist and Communist LM
Bourgeois Socialism attains adequate expression when, and only when, it becomes a mere figure
Free trade: for the benefit of the working class. Protective duties: for the benefit of the working
class. Prison Reform: for the benefit of the working class. This is the last word and the only
seriously meant word of bourgeois socialism.
It is summed up in the phrase: the bourgeois is a bourgeois - for the benefit of the working class.
3. Critical-Utopian Socialism and Communism
ot here refer to that literature which, in every great modem revolution, has always given
voice to the demands of the proletariat, such as the writings of Babeuf and others.
The first direct attempts of the proletariat to attain its own ends, made in times of universal
excitement, when feudal society was being overthrown, necessarily failed, owing to the then
undeveloped state of the proletariat, as well as to the absence of the economic conditions for its
emancipation, conditions that had yet to be produced,M
 and could be produced by the impending
bourgeois epoch alone. The revolutionary literature that accompanied these first movements of
the proletariat had necessarily a reactionary character. It inculcated universal asceticism and
social levelling in its crudest form.
The Socialist and Communist systems, properly so called, those of Saint-Simon, Fourier, Owen,
and others, spring into existence in the early undeveloped period, described above, of the struggle
between proletariat and bourgeoisie (see Section I.M
 Bourgeois and Proletarians).
The founders of these systems see, indeed, the class antagonisms, as well as the action of the
decomposing elements in the prevailing form of society. But the proletariat, as yet in its infancy,
offers to them the spectacle of a class without any historical initiative or any independent political
Since the development of class antagonism keeps even pace with the development of industry, the
economic situation, as they find it, does not as yet offer to them the materiaM
l conditions for the
emancipation of the proletariat. They therefore search after a new social science, after new social
laws, that are to create these conditions.
Historical action is to yield to their personal inventive action; historically created conditions of
emancipation to fantastic ones; and the gradual, spontaneous class organisation of the proletariat
to an organisation of society especially contrived by these inventors. Future history resolves
itself, in their eyes, into the propaganda and the praM
ctical carrying out of their social plans.
In the formation of their plans, they are conscious of caring chiefly for the interests of the
working class, as being the most suffering class. Only from the point of view of being the most
suffering class does the proletariat exist for them.
The undeveloped state of the class struggle, as well as their own surroundings, causes Socialists
of this kind to consider themselves far superior to all class antagonisms. They want to improve
the condition of every member oM
f society, even that of the most favoured. Hence, they habitually
appeal to society at large, without the distinction of class; nay, by preference, to the ruling class.
For how can people, when once they understand their system, fail to see in it the best possible
plan of the best possible state of society?
Hence, they reject all political, and especially all revolutionary action; they wish to attain their
ends by peaceful means, necessarily doomed to failure, and by the force of example, to pave the
 the new social Gospel.
Such fantastic pictures of future society, painted at a time when the proletariat is still in a very
undeveloped state and has but a fantastic conception of its own position, correspond with the first
instinctive yearnings of that class for a general reconstruction of society.
Chapter III: Socialist and Communist Literature
But these Socialist and Communist publications contain also a critical element. They attack every
principle of existing society. Hence, they are full ofM
 the most valuable materials for the
enlightenment of the working class. The practical measures proposed in them - such as the
abolition of the distinction between town and country, of the family, of the carrying on of
industries for the account of private individuals, and of the wage system, the proclamation of
social harmony, the conversion of the function of the state into a more superintendence of
production - all these proposals point solely to the disappearance of class antagonisms which
ime, only just cropping up, and which, in these publications, are recognised in their
earliest indistinct and undefined forms only. These proposals, therefore, are of a purely Utopian
The significance of Critical-Utopian Socialism and Communism bears an inverse relation to
historical development. In proportion as the modern class struggle develops and takes definite
shape, this fantastic standing apart from the contest, these fantastic attacks on it, lose all practical
value and all theoretical juM
stification. Therefore, although the originators of these systems were,
in many respects, revolutionary, their disciples have, in every case, formed mere reactionary
sects. They hold fast by the original views of their masters, in opposition to the progressive
historical development of the proletariat. They, therefore, endeavour, and that consistently, to
deaden the class struggle and to reconcile the class antagonisms. They still dream of experimental
realisation of their social Utopias, of founding isolated M
* - duodecimo editions of the New Jerusalem - and to
realise all these castles in the air, they are compelled to appeal to the feelings and purses of the
bourgeois. By degrees, they sink into the category of the reactionary [or] conservative Socialists
depicted above, differing from these only by more systematic pedantry, and by their fanatical and
superstitious belief in the miraculous effects of their social science. M
They, therefore, violently oppose all political action on the part of the working class; such action,
according to them, can only result from blind unbelief in the new Gospel.
The Owenites in England, and the Fourierists in France, respectively, oppose the Chartists and the
Phalansteres were Socialist colonies on the plan of Charles Fourier; Icaria was the name given by Cabet to his Utopia
and, later on, to his American Communist colony. [Note by Engels to the English edition of 1888.]
 were what Owen called his Communist model societies. Phalansteres was the name of the public
palaces planned by Fourier. Icaria was the name given to the Utopian land of fancy, whose Communist institutions
Cabet portrayed. [Note by Engels to the German edition of 1890.]
IV. Position of the Communists in Relation to the
Various Existing Opposition Parties
Section II has made clear the relations of the Communists to the existing working-class parties,
such as the Chartists in England and the M
Agrarian Reformers in America.
The Communists fight for the attainment of the immediate aims, for the enforcement of the
momentary interests of the working class; but in the movement of the present, they also represent
and take care of the future of that movement. In France, the Communists ally with the Social-
Democrats against the conservative and radical bourgeoisie, reserving, however, the right to take
up a critical position in regard to phases and illusions traditionally handed down from the great
In Switzerland, they support the Radicals, without losing sight of the fact that this party consists
of antagonistic elements, partly of Democratic Socialists, in the French sense, partly of radical
In Poland, they support the party that insists on an agrarian revolution as the prime condition for
national emancipation, that party which fomented the insurrection of Cracow in 1846.
In Germany, they fight with the bourgeoisie whenever it acts in a revolutionary way, against the
onarchy, the feudal squirearchy, and the petty bourgeoisie.
But they never cease, for a single instant, to instil into the working class the clearest possible
recognition of the hostile antagonism between bourgeoisie and proletariat, in order that the
German workers may straightway use, as so many weapons against the bourgeoisie, the social
and political conditions that the bourgeoisie must necessarily introduce along with its supremacy,
and in order that, after the fall of the reactionary classes in Germany,M
 the fight against the
bourgeoisie itself may immediately begin.
The Communists turn their attention chiefly to Germany, because that country is on the eve of a
bourgeois revolution that is bound to be carried out under more advanced conditions of European
civilisation and with a much more developed proletariat than that of England was in the
seventeenth, and France in the eighteenth century, and because the bourgeois revolution in
Germany will be but the prelude to an immediately following proletarian revolM
In short, the Communists everywhere support every revolutionary movement against the existing
social and political order of things.
In all these movements, they bring to the front, as the leading question in each, the property
question, no matter what its degree of development at the time.
Finally, they labour everywhere for the union and agreement of the democratic parties of all
The Communists disdain to conceal their views and aims. They openly declare that their ends can
d only by the forcible overthrow of all existing social conditions. Fet the ruling classes
tremble at a Communistic revolution. The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains. They
have a world to win.
Working Men of All Countries, Unite ! 5
The party then represented in Parliament by Fedru-Rollin, in literature by Fouis Blanc, in the daily
press by the Reforme. The name of Social-Democracy signifies, with these its inventors, a section of
the Democratic or Republican Party more or less tinged withM
 socialism. [Engels, English Edition
Letter from Engels to Marx, 24 November 1847*
Paris, 23-24 November 1847
Not until this evening was it decided that I should be coming. Saturday evening, then, in Ostend,
Hotel de la Couronne, just opposite the railway station beside the harbour, and Sunday morning
across the water. If you take the train that leaves between 4 and 5, you
ll arrive at about the
same time as I do. ...
Give a little thought to the M
Confession of Faith.
 I think we would do best to abandon the
catechetical form and call the thing
Communist Manifesto.
 Since a certain amount of history
has to be narrated in it, the form hitherto adopted is quite unsuitable. I shall be bringing with me
the one from here, which I did [
Principles of Communism
]; it is in simple narrative form, but
wretchedly worded, in a tearing hurry. I start off by asking: What is communism? and then
straight on to the proletariat - the history of its originsM
, how it differs from earlier workers,
development of the antithesis between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie, crises, conclusions. In
between, all kinds of secondary matter and, finally, the communists
 party policy, in so far as it
should be made public. The one here has not yet been submitted in its entirety for endorsement
but, save for a few quite minor points, I think I can get it through in such a form that at least there
is nothing in it which conflicts with our views. ...
From MECW Volume 38, M
p. 146; Written: 24 November 1847; First published: in Der Briefwechsel zwischen F.
Engels und K. Marx, 1913.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith*
This document is the draft programme discussed at the First Congress of the Communist League in
London on June 2-9, 1847.
The Congress was a final stage in the reorganisation of the League of the Just - an organisation of
German workers and craftsmen, which was founded in Paris in 1836-37 and soon acquired an
international character, having communities M
in Gennany, France, Switzerland, Britain and Sweden.
The activity of Marx and Engels directed towards the ideological and organisational unity of the
socialists and advanced workers prompted the leaders of the League (Karl Schapper, Joseph Moll,
Heinrich Bauer), who resided in London front November 1846, to ask for their help in reorganising
the League and drafting its new program me. When Marx and Engels were convinced that the leaders
of the League of the Just were ready to accept the principles of scientifiM
programme they accepted the offer to join the League made to them late in January 1847.
 active participation in the work of the Congress (Marx was unable to go to London) affected
the course and the results of its proceedings. The League was renamed the Communist League, the old
motto of the League of the Just
All men are brothers
 was replaced by a new, Marxist one:
Men of All Countries, Unite!
 The draft programme and the draft Rules of the League were approveM
at the last sitting on June 9, 1847.
The full text of the
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
 (Credo) became known only in 1968.
ft was found by the Swiss scholar Bert Andreas together with the draft Rules and the circular of the
First Congress to the members of the League in the archives of Joachim Friedrich Martens, an active
member of the Communist League, which are kept in the State and University Library in Hamburg.
This discovery made it possible to ascertain a number of important points iM
n the history of the
Communist League and the drafting of its programme documents, ft had been previously assumed that
the First Congress did no more than adopt a decision to draw up a programme and that the draft itself
was made by the London Central Authority of the Communist League (Joseph Moll, Karl Schapper
and Heinrich Bauer) after the Congress between June and August 1847. The new documents show that
the draft was ready by June 9, 1847 and that its author was Engels (the manuscript found in Martens
archives, with the exception of some inserted words, the concluding sentence and the signatures of the
president and the secretary of the Congress, was written in Engels
The document testifies to Engels
 great influence on the discussion of the programme at the Congress
 the formulation of the answers to most of the questions is a Marxist one. Besides, while drafting the
programme, Engels had to take into account that the members of the League had not yet freed
themselves from the influence of M
utopian ideas and this was reflected in the formulation of the first six
questions and answers. The form of a
revolutionary catechism
 was also commonly used in the
League of the Just and other organisations of workers and craftsmen at the time, ft may he assumed
that Engels intended to give greater precision to some of the formulations of the programme document
in the course of further discussion and revision.
After the First Congress of the Communist League, the
Draft of a Communist Confession of FaM
was sent, together with the draft Rules, to the communities for discussion, the results of which were to
be taken into account at the time of the final approval of the programme and the Rules at the Second
Congress. When working on another, improved draft programme, the Principles of Communism, in
late October 1847, Engels made direct use of the
, as can be seen from the
coincidences of the texts, and also from references in the Principles to the earlier document when
d apparently decided to leave fonnulations of some of the answers as they were.
From MECW Volume 6, p. 92; written by Engels, June 9 1847; first published in Grundungsdokumente des Bundes
der Kommunisten, Hamburg, 1969, in English in Birth of the Communist Manifesto, International Publishers, 1971.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
A Communist Confession of Faith
Question 1 : Are you a Communist?
Question 2 : What is the aim of the Communists?
Answer: To organise societyM
 in such a way that every member of it can develop
and use all his capabilities and powers in complete freedom and without thereby
infringing the basic conditions of this society.
Question 3: How do you wish to achieve this aim?
Answer: By the elimination of private property and its replacement by community
Question 4 : On what do you base your community of property?
Answer: Firstly, on the mass of productive forces and means of subsistence
resulting from the development of industry, agricuM
lture, trade and colonisation,
and on the possibility inherent in machinery, chemical and other resources of their
infinite extension.
Secondly, on the fact that in the consciousness or feeling of every individual there
exist certain irrefutable basic principles which, being the result of the whole of
historical development, require no proof.
Question 5: What are such principles?
Answer: For example, every individual strives to be happy. The happiness of the
individual is inseparable from the happiness oM
Question 6 : How do you wish to prepare the way for your community ofproperty?
Answer: By enlightening and uniting the proletariat.
Question 7: What is the proletariat?
Answer: The proletariat is that class of society which lives exclusively by its
labour and not on the profit from any kind of capital; that class whose weal and
woe, whose life and death, therefore, depend on the alternation of times of good
and bad business;, in a word, on the fluctuations of competition.
Question 8: Then thM
ere have not always been proletarians?
Answer: No. There have always been poor and working classes; and those who
worked were almost always the poor. But there have not always been proletarians,
just as competition has not always been free.
Question 9: How did the proletariat arise?
Answer: The proletariat came into being as a result of the introduction of the
machines which have been invented since the middle of the last century and the
most important of which are: the steam-engine, the spinning machine M
power loom. These machines, which were very expensive and could therefore
only be purchased by rich people, supplanted the workers of the time, because by
the use of machinery it was possible to produce commodities more quickly and
cheaply than could the workers with their imperfect spinning wheels and hand-
looms. The machines thus delivered industry entirely into the hands of the big
capitalists and rendered the workers
 scanty property which consisted mainly of
their tools, looms, etc., quite woM
rthless, so that the capitalist was left with
everything, the worker with nothing. In this way the factory system was
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
introduced. Once the capitalists saw how advantageous this was for them, they
sought to extend it to more and more branches of labour. They divided work more
and more between the workers so that workers who formerly had made a whole
article now produced only a part of it. Labour simplified in this way produced
goods more quickly and thereforM
e more cheaply and only now was it found in
almost every branch of labour that here also machines could be used. As soon as
any branch of labour went over to factory production it ended up, just as in the
case of spinning and weaving, in the hands of the big capitalists, and the workers
were deprived of the last remnants of their independence. We have gradually
arrived at the position where almost all branches of labour are run on a factory
basis. This has increasingly brought about the ruin of the previouslyM
middle class, especially of the small master craftsmen, completely transformed the
previous position of the workers, and two new classes which are gradually
swallowing up all other classes have come into being, namely:
I. The, class of the big capitalists, who in all advanced countries are in almost
exclusive possession of the means of subsistence and those means (machines,
factories, workshops, etc.) by which these means of subsistence are produced.
This is the bourgeois class, or the bourgeoisiM
II. The class of the completely property less, who are compelled to sell their labour
to the first class, the bourgeois, simply to obtain from them in return their means
of subsistence. Since the parties to this trading in labour are not equal, but the
bourgeois have the advantage, the propertyless must submit to the bad conditions
laid down by the bourgeois. This class, dependent on the bourgeois, is called the
class of the proletarians or the proletariat.
Question 10: In what way does the proletarian M
differ from the slave?
Answer: The slave is sold once and for all, the proletarian has to sell himself by
the day and by the hour. The slave is the property of one master and for that very
reason has a guaranteed subsistence, however wretched it may be. The proletarian
is, so to speak, the slave of the entire bourgeois class, not of one master, and
therefore has no guaranteed subsistence, since nobody buys his labour if he does
not need it. The slave is accounted a thing and not a member of civil society. ThM
proletarian is recognised as a person, as a member of civil society. The slave may,
therefore, have a better subsistence than the proletarian but the latter stands at a
higher stage of development. The slave frees himself by becoming a proletarian,
abolishing from the totality of property relationships only the relationship of
slavery. The proletarian can free himself only by abolishing property in general.
Question 11 : In what way does the proletarian differ from the serf?
Answer: The serf has the use M
of a piece of land, that is, of an instrument of
production, in return for handing over a greater or lesser portion of the yield. The
proletarian works with instruments of production which belong to someone else
who, in return for his labour, hands over to him a portion, determined by
competition, of the products. In the case of the serf, the share of the labourer is
determined by his own labour, that is, by himself. In the case of the proletarian it
is determined by competition, therefore in the first place M
by the bourgeois. The
serf has guaranteed subsistence, the proletarian has not. The serf frees himself by
driving out his feudal lord and becoming a property owner himself, thus entering
into competition and joining for the time being the possessing class, the privileged
class. The proletarian frees himself by doing away with property, competition, and
all class differences.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Question 12. In what way does the proletarian differ from the handicraftsman?
wer: As opposed to the proletarian, the so-called handicraftsman, who still
existed nearly everywhere during the last century and still exists here and there, is
at most a temporary proletarian. His aim is to acquire capital himself and so to
exploit other workers. He can often achieve this aim where the craft guilds still
exist or where freedom to follow a trade has not yet led to the organisation of
handwork on a factory basis and to intense competition. But as soon as the factory
system is introduced into M
handwork and competition is in full swing, this prospect
is eliminated and the handicraftsman becomes more and more a proletarian. The
handicraftsman therefore frees himself either by becoming a bourgeois or in
general passing over into the middle class, or, by becoming a proletarian as a
result of competition (as now happens in most cases) and joining the movement of
the proletariat - i. e., the more or less conscious communist movement.
Question 13: Then you do not believe that community of property has beM
en possible at any time?
Answer: No. Communism has only arisen since machinery and other inventions
made it possible to hold out the prospect of an all-sided development, a happy
existence, for all members of society. Communism is the theory of a liberation
which was not possible for the slaves, the serfs, or the handicraftsmen, but only
for the proletarians and hence it belongs of necessity to the 19th century and was
not possible in any earlier period.
Question 14: Let m go back to the sixth question. As M
you wish to prepare for community of
property by the enlightening and uniting of the proletariat , then you reject revolution?
Answer: We are convinced not only of the uselessness but even of the
harmfulness of all conspiracies. We are also aware that revolutions are not made
deliberately and arbitrarily but that everywhere and at all times they are the
necessary consequence of circumstances which are not in any way whatever
dependent either on the will or on the leadership of individual parties or of wholeM
classes. But we also see that the development of the proletariat in almost all
countries of the world is forcibly repressed by the possessing classes and that thus
a revolution is being forcibly worked for by the opponents of communism. If, in
the end, the oppressed proletariat is thus driven into a revolution, then we will
defend the cause of the proletariat just as well by our deeds as now by our words.
Question 15: Do you intend to replace the existing social order by community of Property at one
Answer: We have no such intention. The development of the masses cannot he
ordered by decree. It is determined by the development of the conditions in which
these masses live, and therefore proceeds gradually.
Question 16: How do you think the transition from the present situation to community of
Property is to be effected?
Answer: The first, fundamental condition for the introduction of community of
property is the political liberation of the proletariat through a democratic
 17: What will be your first measure once you have established democracy?
Answer: Guaranteeing the subsistence of the proletariat.
Question 18: How will you do this?
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Answer. I. By limiting private property in such a way that it gradually prepares
the way for its transformation into social property, e. g., by progressive taxation,
limitation of the right of inheritance in favour of the state, etc., etc.
II. By employing workers in national workshops and fM
actories and on national
III. By educating all children at the expense of the state.
Question 19: How will you arrange this kind of education during the period of transition?
Answer: All children will be educated in state establishments from the time when
they can do without the first maternal care.
Question 20: Will not the introduction of community of property be accompanied by the
proclamation of the community of women?
Answer: By no means. We will only interfere in the personal relationshipM
men and women or with the family in general to the extent that the maintenance of
the existing institution would disturb the new social order. Besides, we are well
aware that the family relationship has been modified in the course of history by
the property relationships and by periods of development, and that consequently
the ending of private property will also have a most important influence on it.
Question 21: Will nationalities continue to exist under communism?
Answer: The nationalities of tM
he peoples who join together according to the
principle of community will be just as much compelled by this union to merge
with one another and thereby supersede themselves as the various differences
between estates and classes disappear through the superseding of their basis -
Question 22. Do Communists reject existing religions?
Answer: All religions which have existed hitherto were expressions of historical
stages of development of individual peoples or groups of peoples. But
m is that stage of historical development which makes all existing
religions superfluous and supersedes them.
In the name and on the mandate of the Congress.
Secretary: Heide [Alias of Wilhelm Wolff in the League of the Just]
President: Karl Schill [Alias of Karl Schapper in the League of the Just]
London, June 9, 1847
The Principles of Communism*
In 1847 Engels wrote two draft programmes for the Communist League in the form of a catechism,
one in June and the other in October. The latter, which isM
 known as Principles of Communism, was
first published in 1914. The earlier document
Draft of the Communist Confession of Faith
found in 1968. It was first published in 1969 in Hamburg, together with four other documents
pertaining to the first congress of the Communist League, in a booklet entitled Grundungs Dokumente
des Bundes der Kommunisten (Juni bis September 1847) [Founding Documents of the Communist
At the June 1847 Congress of the League of the Just, which was also the foundM
ing conference of the
Communist League, it was decided to issue a draft
 to be submitted for discussion
to the sections of the League. The document which has now come to light is almost certainly this
draft. Comparison of the two documents shows that Principles of Communism is a revised edition of
this earlier draft. In Principles of Communism, Engels left three questions unanswered, in two cases
 ( bleibt ); this clearly refers to the answers provided M
in the earlier draft.
The new draft for the programme was worked out by Engels on the instructions of the leading body of
the Paris circle of the Communist League. The instructions were decided on after Engels
criticism at the committee meeting, on October 22, 1847, of the draft programme drawn up by the
true socialist" Moses Hess, which was then rejected.
Still considering Principles of Communism as a preliminary draft, Engels expressed the view, in a
letter to Marx dated November 23-24 1847, tM
hat it would be best to drop the old catechistic form and
draw up a programme in the form of a manifesto.
At the second congress of the Communist League (November 29-December 8, 1847) Marx and Engels
defended the fundamental scientific principles of communism and were trusted with drafting a
programme in the form of a manifesto of the Communist Party. In writing the manifesto the founders
of Marxism made use of the propositions enunciated in Principles of Communism.
Engels uses the term Manufaktur, and its M
derivatives, which have been translated
, etc., Engels used this word literally, to indicate production by hand, not factory
production for which Engels uses
. Manufaktur differs from handicraft (guild production
in mediaeval towns), in that the latter was carried out by independent artisans. Manufacktur is carried
out by homeworkers working for merchant capitalists, or by groups of craftspeople working together
in large workshops owned by capitalists. ItM
 is therefore a transitional mode of production, between
guild (handicraft) and modern (capitalist) forms of production.
Written: October-November 1847; Source: Selected Works, Volume One, p. 81-97, Progress Publishers, Moscow,
1969; first published: 1914, by Eduard Bernstein in the German Social Democratic Party
s Vorwdrts !; translated: Paul
Sweezy; Transcribed: Zodiac, MEA 1993; marxists.org 1999; proofed and corrected by Andy Blunden, February 2005.
Footnotes are from the Chinese Edition of Marx/EngelsM
 Selected Works Peking, Foreign Languages Press, 1977, with
editorial additions by marxists.org.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
The Principles of Communism
Communism is the doctrine of the conditions of the liberation of the proletariat.
What is the proletariat?
The proletariat is that class in society which lives entirely from the sale of its labor and does not
draw profit from any kind of capital; whose weal and woe, whose life and death, whose soM
existence depends on the demand for labor - hence, on the changing state of business, on the
vagaries of unbridled competition. The proletariat, or the class of proletarians, is, in a word, the
working class of the 19th century. 6
Proletarians, then, have not always existed?
No. There have always been poor and working classes; and the working class have mostly been
poor. But there have not always been workers and poor people living under conditions as they are
today; in other words, there have notM
 always been proletarians, any more than there has always
been free unbridled competitions.
How did the proletariat originate?
The Proletariat originated in the industrial revolution, which took place in England in the last half
of the last (18th) century, and which has since then been repeated in all the civilized countries of
This industrial revolution was precipitated by the discovery of the steam engine, various spinning
machines, the mechanical loom, and a whole series of other mecM
hanical devices. These machines,
which were very expensive and hence could be bought only by big capitalists, altered the whole
mode of production and displaced the former workers, because the machines turned out cheaper
and better commodities than the workers could produce with their inefficient spinning wheels and
handlooms. The machines delivered industry wholly into the hands of the big capitalists and
rendered entirely worthless the meagre property of the workers (tools, looms, etc.). The result was
 the capitalists soon had everything in their hands and nothing remained to the workers. This
marked the introduction of the factory system into the textile industry.
Once the impulse to the introduction of machinery and the factory system had been given, this
system spread quickly to all other branches of industry, especially cloth- and book-printing,
pottery, and the metal industries.
Labor was more and more divided among the individual workers so that the worker who
previously had done a complete piece oM
f work now did only a part of that piece. This division of
labor made it possible to produce things faster and cheaper. It reduced the activity of the
individual worker to simple, endlessly repeated mechanical motions which could be performed
not only as well but much better by a machine. In this way, all these industries fell, one after
another, under the dominance of steam, machinery, and the factory system, just as spinning and
weaving had already done.
But at the same time, they also fell into the hands M
of big capitalists, and their workers were
deprived of whatever independence remained to them. Gradually, not only genuine manufacture
but also handicrafts came within the province of the factory system as big capitalists increasingly
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
displaced the small master craftsmen by setting up huge workshops, which saved many expenses
and permitted an elaborate division of labor.
This is how it has come about that in civilized countries at the present time nearly alM
labor are performed in factories - and, in nearly all branches of work, handicrafts and
manufacture have been superseded. This process has, to an ever greater degree, ruined the old
middle class, especially the small handicraftsmen; it has entirely transformed the condition of the
workers; and two new classes have been created which are gradually swallowing up all the others.
(i) The class of big capitalists, who, in all civilized countries, are already in almost
exclusive possession oM
f all the means of subsistence and of the instruments
(machines, factories) and materials necessary for the production of the means of
subsistence. This is the bourgeois class, or the bourgeoisie.
(ii) The class of the wholly propertyless, who are obliged to sell their labor to the
bourgeoisie in order to get, in exchange, the means of subsistence for their
support. This is called the class of proletarians, or the proletariat.
Under what conditions does this sale of the
labor of the proletarians to tM
he bourgeoisie take place?
Labor is a commodity, like any other, and its price is therefore determined by exactly the same
laws that apply to other commodities. In a regime of big industry or of free competition - as we
shall see, the two come to the same thing - the price of a commodity is, on the average, always
equal to its cost of production. Hence, the price of labor is also equal to the cost of production of
But, the costs of production of labor consist of precisely the quantity of means of subM
necessary to enable the worker to continue working, and to prevent the working class from dying
out. The worker will therefore get no more for his labor than is necessary for this purpose; the
price of labor, or the wage, will, in other words, be the lowest, the minimum, required for the
maintenance of life.
However, since business is sometimes better and sometimes worse, it follows that the worker
sometimes gets more and sometimes gets less for his commodities. But, again, just as the
t, on the average of good times and bad, gets no more and no less for his commodities
than what they cost, similarly on the average the worker gets no more and no less than his
This economic law of wages operates the more strictly the greater the degree to which big
industry has taken possession of all branches of production.
What working classes were there before the industrial
The working classes have always, according to the different stages of development of society,
ed in different circumstances and had different relations to the owning and ruling classes.
In antiquity, the workers were the slaves of the owners, just as they still are in many backward
countries and even in the southern part of the United States.
In the Middle Ages, they were the serfs of the land-owning nobility, as they still are in Hungary,
Poland, and Russia. In the Middle Ages, and indeed right up to the industrial revolution, there
were also journeymen in the cities who worked in the service of petM
ty bourgeois masters.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Gradually, as manufacture developed, these journeymen became manufacturing workers who
were even then employed by larger capitalists.
In what way do proletarians differ from slaves?
The slave is sold once and for all; the proletarian must sell himself daily and hourly.
The individual slave, property of one master, is assured an existence, however miserable it may
be, because of the master
s interest. The individual proletariM
an, property as it were of the entire
bourgeois class which buys his labor only when someone has need of it, has no secure existence.
This existence is assured only to the class as a whole.
The slave is outside competition; the proletarian is in it and experiences all its vagaries.
The slave counts as a thing, not as a member of society. Thus, the slave can have a better
existence than the proletarian, while the proletarian belongs to a higher stage of social
development and, himself, stands on a higher socM
ial level than the slave.
The slave frees himself when, of all the relations of private property, he abolishes only the
relation of slavery and thereby becomes a proletarian; the proletarian can free himself only by
abolishing private property in general.
In what way do proletarians differ from serfs?
The serf possesses and uses an instrument of production, a piece of land, in exchange for which
he gives up a part of his product or part of the services of his labor.
The proletarian works with theM
 instruments of production of another, for the account of this other,
in exchange for a part of the product.
The serf gives up, the proletarian receives. The serf has an assured existence, the proletarian has
not. The serf is outside competition, the proletarian is in it.
The serf liberates himself in one of three ways: either he runs away to the city and there becomes
a handicraftsman; or, instead of products and services, he gives money to his lord and thereby
becomes a free tenant; or he overthrows his fM
eudal lord and himself becomes a property owner. In
short, by one route or another, he gets into the owning class and enters into competition. The
proletarian liberates himself by abolishing competition, private property, and all class differences.
In what way do proletarians differ from handicraftsmen?
In contrast to the proletarian, the so-called handicraftsman, as he still existed almost everywhere
in the past (eighteenth) century and still exists here and there at present, is a proletarian at most M
temporarily. His goal is to acquire capital himself wherewith to exploit other workers. He can
often achieve this goal where guilds still exist or where freedom from guild restrictions has not
yet led to the introduction of factory-style methods into the crafts nor yet to fierce competition
But as soon as the factory system has been introduced into the crafts and competition flourishes
fully, this perspective dwindles away and the handicraftsman becomes more and more a
proletarian. The handicraftsman thereforM
e frees himself by becoming either bourgeois or entering
the middle class in general, or becoming a proletarian because of competition (as is now more
often the case). In which case he can free himself by joining the proletarian movement, i.e., the
more or less communist movement. 7
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
In what way do proletarians differ from manufacturing
The manufacturing worker of the 16th to the 18th centuries still had, with but few exception, an
ument of production in his own possession - his loom, the family spinning wheel, a little plot
of land which he cultivated in his spare time. The proletarian has none of these things.
The manufacturing worker almost always lives in the countryside and in a more or less
patriarchal relation to his landlord or employer; the proletarian lives, for the most part, in the city
and his relation to his employer is purely a cash relation.
The manufacturing worker is tom out of his patriarchal relation by big industryM
property he still has, and in this way becomes a proletarian.
What were the immediate consequences of the industrial
revolution and of the division of society into bourgeoisie
First, the lower and lower prices of industrial products brought about by machine labor totally
destroyed, in all countries of the world, the old system of manufacture or industry based upon
In this way, all semi-barbarian countries, which had hitherto been more or less strangM
historical development, and whose industry had been based on manufacture, were violently
forced out of their isolation. They bought the cheaper commodities of the English and allowed
their own manufacturing workers to be mined. Countries which had known no progress for
thousands of years - for example, India - were thoroughly revolutionized, and even China is now
on the way to a revolution.
We have come to the point where a new machine invented in England deprives millions of
Chinese workers of theirM
 livelihood within a year
In this way, big industry has brought all the people of the Earth into contact with each other, has
merged all local markets into one world market, has spread civilization and progress everywhere
and has thus ensured that whatever happens in civilized countries will have repercussions in all
It follows that if the workers in England or France now liberate themselves, this must set off
revolution in all other countries - revolutions which, sooner or later,M
 must accomplish the
liberation of their respective working class.
Second, wherever big industries displaced manufacture, the bourgeoisie developed in wealth and
power to the utmost and made itself the first class of the country. The result was that wherever
this happened, the bourgeoisie took political power into its own hands and displaced the hitherto
mling classes, the aristocracy, the guildmasters, and their representative, the absolute monarchy.
The bourgeoisie annihilated the power of the aristocracy,M
 the nobility, by abolishing the
entailment of estates - in other words, by making landed property subject to purchase and sale,
and by doing away with the special privileges of the nobility. It destroyed the power of the
guildmasters by abolishing guilds and handicraft privileges. In their place, it put competition -
that is, a state of society in which everyone has the right to enter into any branch of industry, the
only obstacle being a lack of the necessary capital.
The introduction of free competition iM
s thus public declaration that from now on the members of
society are unequal only to the extent that their capitals are unequal, that capital is the decisive
power, and that therefore the capitalists, the bourgeoisie, have become the first class in society.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Free competition is necessary for the establishment of big industry, because it is the only
condition of society in which big industry can make its way.
Having destroyed the social power of the nobilityM
 and the guildmasters, the bourgeois also
destroyed their political power. Having raised itself to the actual position of first class in society,
it proclaims itself to be also the dominant political class. This it does through the introduction of
the representative system which rests on bourgeois equality before the law and the recognition of
free competition, and in European countries takes the form of constitutional monarchy. In these
constitutional monarchies, only those who possess a certain capital are vM
oters - that is to say, only
members of the bourgeoisie. These bourgeois voters choose the deputies, and these bourgeois
deputies, by using their right to refuse to vote taxes, choose a bourgeois government.
Third, everywhere the proletariat develops in step with the bourgeoisie. In proportion, as the
bourgeoisie grows in wealth, the proletariat grows in numbers. For, since the proletarians can be
employed only by capital, and since capital extends only through employing labor, it follows that
the proletariat proceeds at precisely the same pace as the growth of capital.
Simultaneously, this process draws members of the bourgeoisie and proletarians together into the
great cities where industry can be carried on most profitably, and by thus throwing great masses
in one spot it gives to the proletarians a consciousness of their own strength.
Moreover, the further this process advances, the more new labor-saving machines are invented,
the greater is the pressure exercised by big industry on wages, whicM
h, as we have seen, sink to
their minimum and therewith render the condition of the proletariat increasingly unbearable. The
growing dissatisfaction of the proletariat thus joins with its rising power to prepare a proletarian
What were the further consequences of the industrial
Big industry created in the steam engine, and other machines, the means of endlessly expanding
industrial production, speeding it up, and cutting its costs. With production thus facilitated,M
free competition, which is necessarily bound up with big industry, assumed the most extreme
forms; a multitude of capitalists invaded industry, and, in a short while, more was produced than
As a consequence, finished commodities could not be sold, and a so-called commercial crisis
broke out. Factories had to be closed, their owners went bankrupt, and the workers were without
bread. Deepest misery reigned everywhere.
After a time, the superfluous products were sold, the factories began to oM
perate again, wages rose,
and gradually business got better than ever.
But it was not long before too many commodities were again produced and a new crisis broke
out, only to follow the same course as its predecessor.
Ever since the beginning of this (19th) century, the condition of industry has constantly fluctuated
between periods of prosperity and periods of crisis; nearly every five to seven years, a fresh crisis
has intervened, always with the greatest hardship for workers, and always accompanied by
eneral revolutionary stirrings and the direct peril to the whole existing order of things.
What follows from these periodic commercial crises?
That, though big industry in its earliest stage created free competition, it has now
outgrown free competition;
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
that, for big industry, competition and generally the individualistic organization of
production have become a fetter which it must and will shatter;
that, so long as big industry remainM
s on its present footing, it can be maintained
only at the cost of general chaos every seven years, each time threatening the
whole of civilization and not only plunging the proletarians into misery but also
ruining large sections of the bourgeoisie;
hence, either that big industry must itself be given up, which is an absolute
impossibility, or that it makes unavoidably necessary an entirely new organization
of society in which production is no longer directed by mutually competing
individual industrialistsM
 but rather by the whole society operating according to a
definite plan and taking account of the needs of all.
Second: That big industry, and the limitless expansion of production which it makes possible,
bring within the range of feasibility a social order in which so much is produced that every
member of society will be in a position to exercise and develop all his powers and faculties in
It thus appears that the very qualities of big industry which, in our present-day society, produce M
misery and crises are those which, in a different form of society, will abolish this misery and
these catastrophic depressions.
We see with the greatest clarity:
(i) That all these evils are from now on to be ascribed solely to a social order
which no longer corresponds to the requirements of the real situation; and
(ii) That it is possible, through a new social order, to do away with these evils
What will this new social order have to be like?
Above all, it will have to take the cM
ontrol of industry and of all branches of production out of the
hands of mutually competing individuals, and instead institute a system in which all these
branches of production are operated by society as a whole - that is, for the common account,
according to a common plan, and with the participation of all members of society.
It will, in other words, abolish competition and replace it with association.
Moreover, since the management of industry by individuals necessarily implies private property,
e competition is in reality merely the manner and form in which the control of industry
by private property owners expresses itself, it follows that private property cannot be separated
from competition and the individual management of industry. Private property must, therefore, be
abolished and in its place must come the common utilization of all instruments of production and
the distribution of all products according to common agreement - in a word, what is called the
communal ownership of goods.
the abolition of private property is, doubtless, the shortest and most significant way to
characterize the revolution in the whole social order which has been made necessary by the
development of industry - and for this reason it is rightly advanced by communists as their main
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Was not the abolition of private property possible at an
No. Every change in the social order, every revolution in property relations, is the necessaryM
consequence of the creation of new forces of production which no longer fit into the old property
Private property has not always existed.
When, towards the end of the Middle Ages, there arose a new mode of production which could
not be carried on under the then existing feudal and guild forms of property, this manufacture,
which had outgrown the old property relations, created a new property form, private property.
And for manufacture and the earliest stage of development of big industry, privM
the only possible property form; the social order based on it was the only possible social order.
So long as it is not possible to produce so much that there is enough for all, with more left over
for expanding the social capital and extending the forces of production - so long as this is not
possible, there must always be a ruling class directing the use of society
s productive forces, and
a poor, oppressed class. How these classes are constituted depends on the stage of development.
 agrarian Middle Ages give us the baron and the serf; the cities of the later Middle Ages show
us the guildmaster and the journeyman and the day laborer; the 17th century has its
manufacturing workers; the 19th has big factory owners and proletarians.
It is clear that, up to now, the forces of production have never been developed to the point where
enough could be developed for all, and that private property has become a fetter and a barrier in
relation to the further development of the forces of production. M
Now, however, the development of big industry has ushered in a new period. Capital and the
forces of production have been expanded to an unprecedented extent, and the means are at hand
to multiply them without limit in the near future. Moreover, the forces of production have been
concentrated in the hands of a few bourgeois, while the great mass of the people are more and
more falling into the proletariat, their situation becoming more wretched and intolerable in
proportion to the increase of wealth of the bM
ourgeoisie. And finally, these mighty and easily
extended forces of production have so far outgrown private property and the bourgeoisie, that
they threaten at any moment to unleash the most violent disturbances of the social order. Now,
under these conditions, the abolition of private property has become not only possible but
absolutely necessary.
Will the peaceful abolition of private property be possible?
It would be desirable if this could happen, and the communists would certainly be the last tM
oppose it. Communists know only too well that all conspiracies are not only useless, but even
harmful. They know all too well that revolutions are not made intentionally and arbitrarily, but
that, everywhere and always, they have been the necessary consequence of conditions which were
wholly independent of the will and direction of individual parties and entire classes.
But they also see that the development of the proletariat in nearly all civilized countries has been
violently suppressed, and that in thiM
s way the opponents of communism have been working
toward a revolution with all their strength. If the oppressed proletariat is finally driven to
revolution, then we communists will defend the interests of the proletarians with deeds as we now
defend them with words.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
Will it be possible for private property to be abolished at
No, no more than existing forces of production can at one stroke be multiplied to the extent
 creation of a communal society.
In all probability, the proletarian revolution will transform existing society gradually and will be
able to abolish private property only when the means of production are available in sufficient
What will be the course of this revolution?
Above all, it will establish a democratic constitution, and through this, the direct or indirect
dominance of the proletariat. Direct in England, where the proletarians are already a majority of
the people. Indirect in M
France and Germany, where the majority of the people consists not only of
proletarians, but also of small peasants and petty bourgeois who are in the process of falling into
the proletariat, who are more and more dependent in all their political interests on the proletariat,
and who must, therefore, soon adapt to the demands of the proletariat. Perhaps this will cost a
second struggle, but the outcome can only be the victory of the proletariat.
Democracy would be wholly valueless to the proletariat if it wereM
 not immediately used as a
means for putting through measures directed against private property and ensuring the livelihood
of the proletariat. The main measures, emerging as the necessary result of existing relations, are
(i) Limitation of private property through progressive taxation, heavy inheritance
taxes, abolition of inheritance through collateral lines (brothers, nephews, etc.)
(ii) Gradual expropriation of landowners, industrialists, railroad magnates and
ers, partly through competition by state industry, partly directly through
compensation in the form of bonds.
(iii) Confiscation of the possessions of all emigrants and rebels against the
majority of the people.
(iv) Organization of labor or employment of proletarians on publicly owned land,
in factories and workshops, with competition among the workers being abolished
and with the factory owners, in so far as they still exist, being obliged to pay the
same high wages as those paid by the state.
qual obligation on all members of society to work until such time as
private property has been completely abolished. Formation of industrial armies,
especially for agriculture.
(vi) Centralization of money and credit in the hands of the state through a national
ha nk with state capital, and the suppression of all private ha nks and bankers.
(vii) Increase in the number of national factories, workshops, railroads, ships;
bringing new lands into cultivation and improvement of land already under
 all in proportion to the growth of the capital and labor force at the
disposal of the nation.
(viii) Education of all children, from the moment they can leave their mother
care, in national establishments at national cost. Education and production
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
(ix) Construction, on public lands, of great palaces as communal dwellings for
associated groups of citizens engaged in both industry and agriculture and
combining in their way of life the advantaM
ges of urban and rural conditions while
avoiding the one-sidedness and drawbacks of each.
(x) Destruction of all unhealthy and jerry-built dwellings in urban districts.
(xi) Equal inheritance rights for children bom in and out of wedlock.
(xii) Concentration of all means of transportation in the hands of the nation.
It is impossible, of course, to carry out all these measures at once. But one will always bring
others in its wake. Once the first radical attack on private property has been launched, the
oletariat will find itself forced to go ever further, to concentrate increasingly in the hands of the
state all capital, all agriculture, all transport, all trade. All the foregoing measures are directed to
this end; and they will become practicable and feasible, capable of producing their centralizing
effects to precisely the degree that the proletariat, through its labor, multiplies the country
Finally, when all capital, all production, all exchange have been brought together in the hM
the nation, private property will disappear of its own accord, money will become superfluous, and
production will so expand and man so change that society will be able to slough off whatever of
its old economic habits may remain.
Will it be possible for this revolution to take place in one
No. By creating the world market, big industry has already brought all the peoples of the Earth,
and especially the civilized peoples, into such close relation with one another that none iM
independent of what happens to the others.
Further, it has co-ordinated the social development of the civilized countries to such an extent
that, in all of them, bourgeoisie and proletariat have become the decisive classes, and the struggle
between them the great struggle of the day. It follows that the communist revolution will not
merely be a national phenomenon but must take place simultaneously in all civilized countries -
that is to say, at least in England, America, France, and Germany.
elop in each of the these countries more or less rapidly, according as one country or the
other has a more developed industry, greater wealth, a more significant mass of productive forces.
Hence, it will go slowest and will meet most obstacles in Germany, most rapidly and with the
fewest difficulties in England. It will have a powerful impact on the other countries of the world,
and will radically alter the course of development which they have followed up to now, while
greatly stepping up its pace.
universal revolution and will, accordingly, have a universal range.
What will be the consequences of the
ultimate disappearance of private property?
Society will take all forces of production and means of commerce, as well as the exchange and
distribution of products, out of the hands of private capitalists and will manage them in
accordance with a plan based on the availability of resources and the needs of the whole society.
In this way, most important of all, the evil consequences which are now M
associated with the
conduct of big industry will be abolished.
There will be no more crises; the expanded production, which for the present order of society is
overproduction and hence a prevailing cause of misery, will then be insufficient and in need of
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
being expanded much further. Instead of generating misery, overproduction will reach beyond the
elementary requirements of society to assure the satisfaction of the needs of all; it will create new
and, at the same time, the means of satisfying them. It will become the condition of, and the
stimulus to, new progress, which will no longer throw the whole social order into confusion, as
progress has always done in the past. Big industry, freed from the pressure of private property,
will undergo such an expansion that what we now see will seem as petty in comparison as
manufacture seems when put beside the big industry of our own day. This development of
industry will make available to society a sufficient M
mass of products to satisfy the needs of
The same will be true of agriculture, which also suffers from the pressure of private property and
is held back by the division of privately owned land into small parcels. Here, existing
improvements and scientific procedures will be put into practice, with a resulting leap forward
which will assure to society all the products it needs.
In this way, such an abundance of goods will be able to satisfy the needs of all its members.
The division of society inM
to different, mutually hostile classes will then become unnecessary.
Indeed, it will be not only unnecessary but intolerable in the new social order. The existence of
classes originated in the division of labor, and the division of labor, as it has been known up to
the present, will completely disappear. For mechanical and chemical processes are not enough to
bring industrial and agricultural production up to the level we have described; the capacities of
the men who make use of these processes must undergo a M
corresponding development.
Just as the peasants and manufacturing workers of the last century changed their whole way of
life and became quite different people when they were drawn into big industry, in the same way,
communal control over production by society as a whole, and the resulting new development, will
both require an entirely different kind of human material.
People will no longer be, as they are today, subordinated to a single branch of production, bound
to it, exploited by it; they will no longeM
r develop one of their faculties at the expense of all others;
they will no longer know only one branch, or one branch of a single branch, of production as a
whole. Even industry as it is today is finding such people less and less useful.
Industry controlled by society as a whole, and operated according to a plan, presupposes well-
rounded human beings, their faculties developed in balanced fashion, able to see the system of
production in its entirety.
The form of the division of labor which makes one a peaM
sant, another a cobbler, a third a factory
worker, a fourth a stock-market operator, has already been undermined by machinery and will
completely disappear. Education will enable young people quickly to familiarize themselves with
the whole system of production and to pass from one branch of production to another in response
to the needs of society or their own inclinations. It will, therefore, free them from the one-sided
character which the present-day division of labor impresses upon every individual. CommuM
society will, in this way, make it possible for its members to put their comprehensively developed
faculties to full use. But, when this happens, classes will necessarily disappear. It follows that
society organized on a communist basis is incompatible with the existence of classes on the one
hand, and that the very building of such a society provides the means of abolishing class
differences on the other.
A corollary of this is that the difference between city and country is destined to disappear. The M
management of agriculture and industry by the same people rather than by two different classes
of people is, if only for purely material reasons, a necessary condition of communist association.
The dispersal of the agricultural population on the land, alongside the crowding of the industrial
population into the great cities, is a condition which corresponds to an undeveloped state of both
agriculture and industry and can already be felt as an obstacle to further development.
Draft of a Communist ConfM
The general co-operation of all members of society for the purpose of planned exploitation of the
forces of production, the expansion of production to the point where it will satisfy the needs of
all, the abolition of a situation in which the needs of some are satisfied at the expense of the needs
of others, the complete liquidation of classes and their conflicts, the rounded development of the
capacities of all members of society through the elimination of the present division of labor,
ough industrial education, through engaging in varying activities, through the participation by
all in the enjoyments produced by all, through the combination of city and country - these are the
main consequences of the abolition of private property.
What will be the influence of communist society on the
It will transform the relations between the sexes into a purely private matter which concerns only
the persons involved and into which society has no occasion to intervene. It can do this sM
does away with private property and educates children on a communal basis, and in this way
removes the two bases of traditional marriage - the dependence rooted in private property, of the
women on the man, and of the children on the parents.
And here is the answer to the outcry of the highly moral philistines against the
. Community of women is a condition which belongs entirely to bourgeois society and
which today finds its complete expression in prostitution. But prostitutiM
on is based on private
property and falls with it. Thus, communist society, instead of introducing community of women,
in fact abolishes it.
What will be the attitude of communism to existing
The nationalities of the peoples associating themselves in accordance with the principle of
community will be compelled to mingle with each other as a result of this association and thereby
to dissolve themselves, just as the various estate and class distinctions must disappear through the
bolition of their basis, private property . 8
What will be its attitude to existing religions?
All religions so far have been the expression of historical stages of development of individual
peoples or groups of peoples. But communism is the stage of historical development which
makes all existing religions superfluous and brings about their disappearance . 9
How do communists differ from socialists?
The so-called socialists are divided into three categories.
[ Reactionary Socialists: M
The first category consists of adherents of a feudal and patriarchal society which has already been
destroyed, and is still daily being destroyed, by big industry and world trade and their creation,
bourgeois society. This category concludes, from the evils of existing society, that feudal and
patriarchal society must be restored because it was free of such evils. In one way or another, all
their proposals are directed to this end.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
This category of reactM
ionary socialists, for all their seeming partisanship and their scalding tears
for the misery of the proletariat, is nevertheless energetically opposed by the communists for the
(i) It strives for something which is entirely impossible.
(ii) It seeks to establish the rule of the aristocracy, the guildmasters, the small
producers, and their retinue of absolute or feudal monarchs, officials, soldiers, and
priests - a society which was, to be sure, free of the evils of present-day society
ut which brought it at least as many evils without even offering to the oppressed
workers the prospect of liberation through a communist revolution.
(iii) As soon as the proletariat becomes revolutionary and communist, these
reactionary socialists show their true colors by immediately making common
cause with the bourgeoisie against the proletarians.
[ Bourgeois Socialists: ]
The second category consists of adherents of present-day society who have been frightened for its
future by the evils to which it nM
ecessarily gives rise. What they want, therefore, is to maintain this
society while getting rid of the evils which are an inherent part of it.
To this end, some propose mere welfare measures - while others come forward with grandiose
systems of reform which, under the pretense of re-organizing society, are in fact intended to
preserve the foundations, and hence the life, of existing society.
Communists must unremittingly struggle against these bourgeois socialists because they work for
the enemies of communM
ists and protect the society which communists aim to overthrow.
[ Democratic Socialists: ]
Finally, the third category consists of democratic socialists who favor some of the same measures
the communists advocate, as described in Question 18, not as part of the transition to
communism, however, but as measures which they believe will be sufficient to abolish the misery
and evils of present-day society.
These democratic socialists are either proletarians who are not yet sufficiently clear about the
ons of the liberation of their class, or they are representatives of the petty bourgeoisie, a
class which, prior to the achievement of democracy and the socialist measures to which it gives
rise, has many interests in common with the proletariat.
It follows that, in moments of action, the communists will have to come to an understanding with
these democratic socialists, and in general to follow as far as possible a common policy with them
- provided that these socialists do not enter into the service of the rM
uling bourgeoisie and attack
It is clear that this form of co-operation in action does not exclude the discussion of differences.
What is the attitude of the communists to the
other political parties of our time?
This attitude is different in the different countries.
In England, France, and Belgium, where the bourgeoisie rules, the communists still have a
common interest with the various democratic parties, an interest which is all the greater the more
closely the socialistic meM
asures they champion approach the aims of the communists - that is, the
more clearly and definitely they represent the interests of the proletariat and the more they depend
on the proletariat for support. In England, for example, the working-class Chartists 10 are infinitely
closer to the communists than the democratic petty bourgeoisie or the so-called Radicals.
Draft of a Communist Confession of Faith
In America, where a democratic constitution has already been established, the communists must
ke the common cause with the party which will turn this constitution against the bourgeoisie
and use it in the interests of the proletariat - that is, with the agrarian National Reformers. 11
In Switzerland, the Radicals, though a very mixed party, are the only group with which the
communists can co-operate, and, among these Radicals, the Vaudois and Genevese are the most
In Germany, finally, the decisive struggle now on the order of the day is that between the
bourgeoisie and the absolute monarchyM
. Since the communists cannot enter upon the decisive
struggle between themselves and the bourgeoisie until the bourgeoisie is in power, it follows that
it is in the interest of the communists to help the bourgeoisie to power as soon as possible in order
the sooner to be able to overthrow it. Against the governments, therefore, the communists must
continually support the radical liberal party, taking care to avoid the self-deceptions of the
bourgeoisie and not fall for the enticing promises of benefits which aM
 victory for the bourgeoisie
would allegedly bring to the proletariat. The sole advantages which the proletariat would derive
from a bourgeois victory would consist
(i) in various concessions which would facilitate the unification of the proletariat
into a closely knit, battle-worthy, and organized class; and
(ii) in the certainly that, on the very day the absolute monarchies fall, the struggle
between bourgeoisie and proletariat will start. From that day on, the policy of the
communists will be the same aM
s it now is in the countries where the bourgeoisie is
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
 were written by Karl Marx and Frederick Engels in
Paris between March 21 (when Engels arrived in Paris from Brussels) and March 24, 1848. This
document was discussed by members of the Central Authority, who approved and signed it as the.
political programme of the Communist League in the revolution that broke out in Germany. In March
nted as a leaflet, for distribution among revolutionary German emigrant workers who were
about to return home. Austrian and German diplomats in Paris informed their respective governments
about this as early as March 27, 28 and 29. (The Austrian Ambassador enclosed in his letter a copy of
the leaflet which he dated
.) The leaflet soon reached members of the Communist League
in other countries, in particular, German emigrant workers in London.
Early in April, the
Demands of the Communist PartyM
 were published in such German
democratic papers as Berliner Zeitungs-Halle (special supplement to No. 82, April 5, 1848),
Diisseldorfer Zeitung (No. 96, April 5, 1848), Mannheimer Abendzeitung (No. 96, April 6, 1848),
sche Zeitung (No. 97, April 6, 1848, supplement), Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung (No. 100, April
9, 1848, supplement), and Zeitung fur das deutsche Volk (No. 2 1, April 9, 1848).
Marx and Engels, who left for Germany round about April 6 and some time later settled in CologneM
did their best along with their followers to popularise this programme document during the revolution.
In 1848 and 1849 it was repeatedly published in the periodical press and in leaflet form. Not later than
September 10, 1848, the
 were printed in Cologne as a leaflet for circulation by the
 Association both in the town itself and in a number of districts of Rhenish Prussia.
In addition to minor stylistic changes, point 10 in the text of the leaflet was worded differently fromM
that published in March-April 1848. At the Second Democratic Congress held in Berlin in October
1848, Friedrich Beust, delegate from the Cologne Workers
 Association, spoke, on behalf of the social
question commission, in favour of adopting a programme of action closely following the
In November and December 1848, various points of the
 were discussed at meetings of the
 Association. Many editions of the
 published during the revolution and
ts defeat have survived to this day in their original form, some of them as copies kept in the
At the end of 1848 or the beginning of 1849 an abridged version of the
pamphlet form by Weller Publishers in Leipzig. The slogan at the beginning of the document, the
second paragraph of point 9 and the last sentence of point 10 were omitted, and the words
 were not included among the signatories. In 1853, an abridged version of the
s printed, together with other documents of the Communist League, in the first part of the book Die
Communisten-Verschworungen des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts published in Berlin for purposes of
information by Wermuth and Stieber, two police officials, who staged a trial against the Communists
in Cologne in 1852. Later Engels reproduced the main points of the
 in his essay On the
History of the Communist League, published in November 1885 in the newspaper Sozialdemokrat, and
as an introduction to theM
 pamphlet: K. Marx, Enthiillungen iiber den Kommunisten Prozess zu Koln,
Hottingen-Zurich, 1885.
English translations of the
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
collections: The Communist Manifesto of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels with an introduction and
explanatory notes by D. Ryazanoff, Martin Lawrence, London (1930); K. Marx, Selected Works, Vol.
II, ed. V. Adoratsky, Moscow-Leningrad, Co-operative Publishing Society of Foreign Workers in the
USSR (1936); ibid., New York (1 9M
36); Birth of the Communist Manifesto, edited and annotated, with
an Introduction by D. J. Struik, International Publishers, New York, 197 1, and in other publications.
The text is from From MECW Volume 7, p. 3.
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
Workers of all countries, unite!
1. The whole of Germany shall be declared a single and indivisible republic.
2. Every German, having reached the age of 21, shall have the right to vote and to be M
provided he has not been convicted of a criminal offence.
3. Representatives of the people shall receive payment so that workers, too, shall be able to
become members of the German parliament.
4. Universal arming of the people. In future the armies shall be simultaneously labour armies, so
that the troops shall not, as formerly, merely consume, but shall produce more than is necessary
This will moreover be conducive to the organisation of labour.
5. Legal services shall be freM
6. All feudal obligations, dues, corvees, tithes etc., which have hitherto weighed upon the rural
population, shall be abolished without compensation.
7. Princely and other feudal estates, together with mines, pits, and so forth, shall become the
property of the state. The estates shall be cultivated on a large scale and with the most up-to-date
scientific devices in the interests of the whole of society.
8. Mortgages on peasant lands shall be declared the property of the state. Interest on suM
mortgages shall be paid by the peasants to the state.
9. In localities where the tenant system is developed, the land rent or the quit-rent shall be paid to
the state as a tax.
The measures specified in Nos. 6, 7, 8 and 9 are to be adopted in order to reduce the communal
and other burdens hitherto imposed upon the peasants and small tenant farmers without curtailing
the means available for defraying state expenses and without imperilling production.
The landowner in the strict sense, who is neither a pM
easant nor a tenant farmer, has no share in
production. Consumption on his part is, therefore, nothing but abuse.
10. A state bank, whose paper issues are legal tender, shall replace all private banks.
This measure will make it possible to regulate the credit system in the interest of the people as a
whole, and will thus undermine the dominion of the big financial magnates. Further, by gradually
substituting paper money for gold and silver coin, the universal means of exchange (that
indispensable prerequisiM
te of bourgeois trade and commerce) will be cheapened, and gold and
silver will be set free for use in foreign trade. Finally, this measure is necessary in order to bind
the interests of the conservative bourgeoisie to the Government.
11. All the means of transport, railways, canals, steamships, roads, the posts etc. shall be taken
over by the state. They shall become the property of the state and shall be placed free at the
disposal of the impecunious classes.
12. All civil servants shall receive the same M
salary, the only exception being that civil servants
who have a family to support and who therefore have greater requirements, shall receive a higher
13. Complete separation of Church and State. The clergy of every denomination shall be paid
only by the voluntary contributions of their congregations.
14. The right of inheritance to be curtailed.
Demands of the Communist Party in Germany
15. The introduction of steeply graduated taxes, and the abolition of taxes on articles of
16. Inauguration of national workshops. The state guarantees a livelihood to all workers and
provides for those who are incapacitated for work.
17. Universal and free education of the people.
It is to the interest of the German proletariat, the petty bourgeoisie and the small peasants to
support these demands with all possible energy. Only by the realisation of these demands will the
millions in Germany, who have hitherto been exploited by a handful of persons and whom the
exploiters would like to keepM
 in further subjection, win the rights and attain to that power to
which they are entitled as the producers of all wealth.
Karl Marx, Karl Schapper, H. Bauer, F. Engels, J. Moll, W. Wolff
Address to the International Workingmen
s Association, May 1871
 was composed by Karl Marx as an address to the General Council of the
International, and included in a book,
The Civil War in France,
 with the aim of distributing to
workers of all countrM
ies a clear understanding of the character and world-wide significance of the
heroic struggle of the Communards and their historical experience to learn from. The book was widely
circulated by 1872 it was translated into several languages and published throughout Europe and the
The first address was delivered on July 23rd, 1870, five days after the beginning of the Franco-
Prussian War. The second address, delivered on September 9, 1870, gave a historical overview of the
events a week after thM
e army of Bonaparte was defeated. The third address, delivered on May 30,
1871, two days after the defeat of the Paris Commune - detailed the significance and the underlining
causes of the first workers government ever created.
The Civil War in France was originally published by Marx as only the third address, only the first
half of which is reproduced here. In 1891, on the 20th anniversary of the Paris Commune, Engels
put together a new collection of the work. Engels decided to include the first two addressM
Marx made to the International.
The Address is included here because it can be regarded as an amendment to the Manifesto,
clarifying a number of issues relating to the state based on the experience of the Commune.
On the dawn of March 18, Paris arose to the thunder-burst of
Commune, that sphinx so tantalizing to the bourgeois mind?
The proletarians of Paris,
 said the Central Committee in its manifesto of March 18,
failures and treasons of theM
 ruling classes, have understood that the hour has struck for them to
save the situation by taking into their own hands the direction of public affairs.... They have
understood that it is their imperious duty, and their absolute right, to render themselves masters of
their own destinies, by seizing upon the governmental power.
But the working class cannot simply lay hold of the ready-made state machinery, and wield
it for its own purposes.
The centralized state power, with its ubiquitous organs of standiM
ng army, police, bureaucracy,
clergy, and judicature - organs wrought after the plan of a systematic and hierarchic division of
labor - originates from the days of absolute monarchy, serving nascent bourgeois society as a
mighty weapon in its struggle against feudalism. Still, its development remained clogged by all
manner of medieval rubbish, seignorial rights, local privileges, municipal and guild monopolies,
and provincial constitutions. The gigantic broom of the French Revolution of the 18th century
 away all these relics of bygone times, thus clearing simultaneously the social soil of its last
hindrances to the superstructure of the modem state edifice raised under the First Empire, itself
the offspring of the coalition wars of old semi-feudal Europe against modern France.
During the subsequent regimes, the government, placed under parliamentary control - that is,
under the direct control of the propertied classes - became not only a hotbed of huge national
debts and crushing taxes; with its irresistiblM
e allurements of place, pelf, and patronage, it became
not only the bone of contention between the rival factions and adventurers of the ruling classes;
but its political character changed simultaneously with the economic changes of society. At the
same pace at which the progress of modem industry developed, widened, intensified the class
antagonism between capital and labor, the state power assumed more and more the character of
the national power of capital over labor, of a public force organized for social M
engine of class despotism.
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
After every revolution marking a progressive phase in the class struggle, the purely repressive
character of the state power stands out in bolder and bolder relief. The Revolution of 1830,
resulting in the transfer of government from the landlords to the capitalists, transferred it from the
more remote to the more direct antagonists of the working men. The bourgeois republicans, whM
in the name of the February Revolution, took the state power, used it for the June [1848]
massacres, in order to convince the working class that
 republic means the republic
entrusting their social subjection, and in order to convince the royalist bulk of the bourgeois and
landlord class that they might safely leave the cares and emoluments of government to the
However, after their one heroic exploit of June, the bourgeois republicans had, from the front, to
back to the rear of the
 - a combination formed by all the rival fractions and
factions of the appropriating classes. The proper form of their joint-stock government was the
parliamentary republic, with Louis Bonaparte for its president. Theirs was a regime of avowed
class terrorism and deliberate insult towards the
If the parliamentary republic, as M. Thiers said,
divided them [the different fractions of the
ruling class] least,
 it opened an abyss between that M
class and the whole body of society outside
their spare ranks. The restraints by which their own divisions had under former regimes still
checked the state power, were removed by their union; and in view of the threatening upheaval of
the proletariat, they now used that state power mercilessly and ostentatiously as the national war
engine of capital against labor.
In their uninterrupted crusade against the producing masses, they were, however, bound not only
to invest the executive with continually increasedM
 powers of repression, but at the same time to
divest their own parliamentary stronghold - the National Assembly - one by one, of all its own
means of defence against the Executive. The Executive, in the person of Louis Bonaparte, turned
them out. The natural offspring of the
 republic was the Second Empire.
The empire, with the coup d
etat for its birth certificate, universal suffrage for its sanction, and
the sword for its sceptre, professed to rest upon the peasantry, the large mass oM
directly involved in the struggle of capital and labor. It professed to save the working class by
breaking down parliamentarism, and, with it, the undisguised subserviency of government to the
propertied classes. It professed to save the propertied classes by upholding their economic
supremacy over the working class; and, finally, it professed to unite all classes by reviving for all
the chimera of national glory.
In reality, it was the only form of government possible at a time when the bourM
geoisie had already
lost, and the working class had not yet acquired, the faculty of ruling the nation. It was acclaimed
throughout the world as the savior of society. Under its sway, bourgeois society, freed from
political cares, attained a development unexpected even by itself. Its industry and commerce
expanded to colossal dimensions; financial swindling celebrated cosmopolitan orgies; the misery
of the masses was set off by a shameless display of gorgeous, meretricious and debased luxury.
 apparently soaring high above society and the very hotbed of all its corruptions.
Its own rottenness, and the rottenness of the society it had saved, were laid bare by the bayonet of
Prussia, herself eagerly bent upon transferring the supreme seat of that regime from Paris to
Berlin. Imperialism is, at the same time, the most prostitute and the ultimate form of the state
power which nascent bourgeois society had commenced to elaborate as a means of its own
emancipation from feudalism, and which full-grown bouM
rgeois society had finally transformed
into a means for the enslavement of labor by capital.
The direct antithesis to the empire was the Commune. The cry of
the February [1848] Revolution was ushered in by the Paris proletariat, did but express a vague
aspiration after a republic that was not only to supercede the monarchical form of class rule, but
class rule itself. The Commune was the positive form of that republic.
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
Paris, the central seat of the old governmental power, and, at the same time, the social stronghold
of the French working class, had risen in arms against the attempt of Thiers and the Rurals to
restore and perpetuate that old governmental power bequeathed to them by the empire. Paris
could resist only because, in consequence of the siege, it had got rid of the army, and replaced it
by a National Guard, the bulk of which consisted of working men. This fact was now to be
 into an institution. The first decree of the Commune, therefore, was the suppression
of the standing army, and the substitution for it of the armed people.
The Commune was formed of the municipal councillors, chosen by universal suffrage in the
various wards of the town, responsible and revocable at short terms. The majority of its members
were naturally working men, or acknowledged representatives of the working class. The
Commune was to be a working, not a parliamentary body, executive and legislative at tM
Instead of continuing to be the agent of the Central Government, the police was at once stripped
of its political attributes, and turned into the responsible, and at all times revocable, agent of the
Commune. So were the officials of all other branches of the administration. From the members of
the Commune downwards, the public service had to be done at workman
interests and the representation allowances of the high dignitaries of state disappeared along with
itaries themselves. Public functions ceased to be the private property of the tools of
the Central Government. Not only municipal administration, but the whole initiative hitherto
exercised by the state was laid into the hands of the Commune.
Flaving once got rid of the standing army and the police - the physical force elements of the old
government - the Commune was anxious to break the spiritual force of repression, the
 by the disestablishment and disendowment of all churches as proprieM
priests were sent back to the recesses of private life, there to feed upon the alms of the faithful in
imitation of their predecessors, the apostles.
The whole of the educational institutions were opened to the people gratuitously, and at the same
time cleared of all interference of church and state. Thus, not only was education made accessible
to all, but science itself freed from the fetters which class prejudice and governmental force had
The judicial functionaries wereM
 to be divested of that sham independence which had but served to
mask their abject subserviency to all succeeding governments to which, in turn, they had taken,
and broken, the oaths of allegiance. Like the rest of public servants, magistrates and judges were
to be elective, responsible, and revocable.
The Paris Commune was, of course, to serve as a model to all the great industrial centres of
France. The communal regime once established in Paris and the secondary centres, the old
centralized government wouM
ld in the provinces, too, have to give way to the self-government of
In a rough sketch of national organisation, which the Commune had no time to develop, it states
clearly that the Commune was to be the political form of even the smallest country hamlet, and
that in the rural districts the standing army was to be replaced by a national militia, with an
extremely short term of service. The rural communities of every district were to administer their
common affairs by an assembly of delegates iM
n the central town, and these district assemblies
were again to send deputies to the National Delegation in Paris, each delegate to be at any time
revocable and bound by the mandat imperatif (formal instructions) of his constituents. The few
but important functions which would still remain for a central government were not to be
suppressed, as has been intentionally misstated, but were to be discharged by Communal and
thereafter responsible agents.
The unity of the nation was not to be broken, but, on the coM
ntrary, to be organized by Communal
Constitution, and to become a reality by the destruction of the state power which claimed to be
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
the embodiment of that unity independent of, and superior to, the nation itself, from which it was
but a parasitic excrescence.
While the merely repressive organs of the old governmental power were to be amputated, its
legitimate functions were to be wrested from an authority usurping pre-eminencM
itself, and restored to the responsible agents of society. Instead of deciding once in three or six
years which member of the ruling class was to misrepresent the people in Parliament, universal
suffrage was to serve the people, constituted in Communes, as individual suffrage serves every
other employer in the search for the workmen and managers in his business. And it is well-known
that companies, like individuals, in matters of real business generally know how to put the right
t place, and, if they for once make a mistake, to redress it promptly. On the other
hand, nothing could be more foreign to the spirit of the Commune than to supercede universal
suffrage by hierarchical investiture. 12
It is generally the fate of completely new historical creations to be mistaken for the counterparts
of older, and even defunct, forms of social life, to which they may bear a certain likeness. Thus,
this new Commune, which breaks with the modem state power, has been mistaken for a
of the medieval Communes, which first preceded, and afterward became the
substratum of, that very state power. The Communal Constitution has been mistaken for an
attempt to break up into the federation of small states, as dreamt of by Montesquieu and the
Girondins 13 , that unity of great nations which, if originally brought about by political force, has
now become a powerful coefficient of social production. The antagonism of the Commune
against the state power has been mistaken for an exaggerated form of theM
 ancient struggle against
over-centralization. Peculiar historical circumstances may have prevented the classical
development, as in France, of the bourgeois form of government, and may have allowed, as in
England, to complete the great central state organs by corrupt vestries, jobbing councillors, and
ferocious poor-law guardians in the towns, and virtually hereditary magistrates in the counties.
The Communal Constitution would have restored to the social body all the forces hitherto
absorbed by the state pM
arasite feeding upon, and clogging the free movement of, society. By this
one act, it would have initiated the regeneration of France.
The provincial French bourgeois saw in the Commune an attempt to restore the sway their order
had held over the country under Louis Philippe, and which, under Louis Napoleon, was
supplanted by the pretended rule of the country over the towns. In reality, the Communal
Constitution brought the rural producers under the intellectual lead of the central towns of their
and there secured to them, in the working men, the natural trustees of their interests. The
very existence of the Commune involved, as a matter of course, local municipal liberty, but no
longer as a check upon the now superseded state power. It could only enter into the head of a
Bismarck - who, when not engaged on his intrigues of blood and iron, always likes to resume his
old trade, so befitting his mental calibre, of contributor to Kladderadatsch (the Berlin Punch 14 ) -
it could only enter into such a headM
 to ascribe to the Paris Commune aspirations after the
caricature of the old French municipal organization of 1791, the Prussian municipal constitution
which degrades the town governments to mere secondary wheels in the police machinery of the
Prussian state. The Commune made that catchword of bourgeois revolutions - cheap government
- a reality by destroying the two greatest sources of expenditure: the standing army and state
ftmctionarism. Its very existence presupposed the non-existence of monarchy, which, M
least, is the normal encumbrance and indispensable cloak of class rule. It supplied the republic
with the basis of really democratic institutions. But neither cheap government nor the
 was its ultimate aim; they were its mere concomitants.
The multiplicity of interpretations to which the Commune has been subjected, and the multiplicity
of interests which construed it in their favor, show that it was a thoroughly expansive political
form, while all the previous forms of governmM
ent had been emphatically repressive. Its true secret
was this: It was essentially a working class government, the product of the struggle of the
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
producing against the appropriating class, the political form at last discovered under which to
work out the economical emancipation of labor.
Except on this last condition, the Communal Constitution would have been an impossibility and a
delusion. The political rule of the producerM
 cannot co-exist with the peipetuation of his social
slavery. The Commune was therefore to serve as a lever for uprooting the economical foundation
upon which rests the existence of classes, and therefore of class rule. With labor emancipated,
every man becomes a working man, and productive labor ceases to be a class attribute.
It is a strange fact. In spite of all the tall talk and all the immense literature, for the last 60 years,
about emancipation of labor, no sooner do the working men anywhere take the sM
own hands with a will, than uprises at once all the apologetic phraseology of the mouthpieces of
present society with its two poles of capital and wage-slavery (the landlord now is but the
sleeping partner of the capitalist), as if the capitalist society was still in its purest state of virgin
innocence, with its antagonisms still undeveloped, with its delusions still unexploded, with its
prostitute realities not yet laid bare. The Commune, they exclaim, intends to abolish property, the
s of all civilization!
Yes, gentlemen, the Commune intended to abolish that class property which makes the labor of
the many the wealth of the few. It aimed at the expropriation of the expropriators. It wanted to
make individual property a truth by transforming the means of production, land, and capital, now
chiefly the means of enslaving and exploiting labor, into mere instruments of free and associated
labor. But this is communism,
 communism! Why, those member of the ruling
 intelligent enough to perceive the impossibility of continuing the present system
- and they are many - have become the obtrusive and full-mouthed apostles of co-operative
production. If co-operative production is not to remain a sham and a snare; if it is to supersede the
capitalist system; if united co-operative societies are to regulate national production upon
common plan, thus taking it under their own control, and putting an end to the constant anarchy
and periodical convulsions which are the fatality oM
f capitalist production - what else, gentlemen,
would it be but communism,
The working class did not expect miracles from the Commune. They have no ready-made utopias
to introduce par decret du peuple. They know that in order to work out their own emancipation,
and along with it that higher form to which present society is irresistibly tending by its own
economical agencies, they will have to pass through long struggles, through a series of historic
processes, transforming circumstaM
nces and men. They have no ideals to realize, but to set free the
elements of the new society with which old collapsing bourgeois society itself is pregnant. In the
full consciousness of their historic mission, and with the heroic resolve to act up to it, the working
class can afford to smile at the coarse invective of the gentlemen
s gentlemen with pen and
inkhom, and at the didactic patronage of well-wishing bourgeois-doctrinaires, pouring forth their
ignorant platitudes and sectarian crotchets in the oracM
ular tone of scientific infallibility.
When the Paris Commune took the management of the revolution in its own hands; when plain
working men for the first time dared to infringe upon the governmental privilege of their
 and, under circumstances of unexampled difficulty, performed it at salaries the highest
of which barely amounted to one-fifth what, according to high scientific authority , is the
minimum required for a secretary to a certain metropolitan school-board - the old world wrM
in convulsions of rage at the sight of the Red Flag, the symbol of the Republic of Labor, floating
over the Hotel de Ville.
And yet, this was the first revolution in which the working class was openly acknowledged as the
only class capable of social initiative, even by the great bulk of the Paris bourgeois -
shopkeepers, tradesmen, merchants - the wealthy capitalist alone excepted. The Commune had
Professor Huxley. [Note to the German addition of 1871.]
Third Address to the International WoM
s Association, May 1871
saved them by a sagacious settlement of that ever recurring cause of dispute among the bourgeois
themselves - the debtor and creditor accounts. 15 The same portion of the bourgeois, after they had
assisted in putting down the working men
s insurrection of June 1848, had been at once
unceremoniously sacrificed to their creditors 16 by the then Constituent Assembly. But this was
not their only motive for now rallying around the working class. They felt there was but one
lternative - the Commune, or the empire - under whatever name it might reappear. The empire
had ruined them economically by the havoc it made of public wealth, by the wholesale financial
swindling it fostered, by the props it lent to the artificially accelerated centralization of capital,
and the concomitant expropriation of their own ranks. It had suppressed them politically, it had
shocked them morally by its orgies, it had insulted their Voltairianism by handing over the
education of their children to the fM
reres Ignorantins , 17 it had revolted their national feeling as
Frenchmen by precipitating them headlong into a war which left only one equivalent for the ruins
it made - the disappearance of the empire. In fact, after the exodus from Paris of the high
Bonapartist and capitalist boheme, the true bourgeois Party of Order came out in the shape of the
 18 enrolling themselves under the colors of the Commune and defending it
against the wilful misconstructions of Thiers. Whether the gratiM
tude of this great body of the
bourgeois will stand the present severe trial, time must show.
The Commune was perfectly right in telling the peasants that
its victory was their only hope.
all the lies hatched at Versailles and re-echoed by the glorious European penny-a-liner, one of the
most tremendous was that the Rurals represented the French peasantry. Think only of the love of
the French peasant for the men to whom, after 1815, he had to pay the milliard indemnity. 19 In the
eyes of the French pM
easant, the very existence of a great landed proprietor is in itself an
encroachment on his conquests of 1789. The bourgeois, in 1848, had burdened his plot of land
with the additional tax of 45 cents, in the franc; but then he did so in the name of the revolution;
while now he had fomented a civil war against revolution, to shift on to the peasant
the chief load of the 5 milliards of indemnity to be paid to the Prussian. The Commune, on the
other hand, in one of its first proclamations, declaredM
 that the true originators of the war would be
made to pay its cost. The Commune would have delivered the peasant of the blood tax - would
have given him a cheap government - transformed his present blood-suckers, the notary,
advocate, executor, and other judicial vampires, into salaried communal agents, elected by, and
responsible to, himself. It would have freed him of the tyranny of the garde champetre, the
gendarme, and the prefect; would have put enlightenment by the schoolmaster in the place of
cation by the priest. And the French peasant is, above all, a man of reckoning. He would
find it extremely reasonable that the pay of the priest, instead of being extorted by the tax-
gatherer, should only depend upon the spontaneous action of the parishioners
 religious instinct.
Such were the great immediate boons which the rule of the Commune - and that rule alone - held
out to the French peasantry. It is, therefore, quite superfluous here to expatiate upon the more
complicated but vital problems which thM
e Commune alone was able, and at the same time
compelled, to solve in favor of the peasant - viz., the hypothecary debt, lying like an incubus
upon his parcel of soil, the proletariat fancier (the rural proletariat), daily growing upon it, and
his expropriation from it enforced, at a more and more rapid rate, by the very development of
modem agriculture and the competition of capitalist farming.
The French peasant had elected Louis Bonaparte president of the republic; but the Party of Order
e. What the French peasant really wants he commenced to show in 1849 and
1850, by opposing his maire to the government
s prefect, his school-master to the government
priest, and himself to the government
s gendarme. All the laws made by the Party of Order in
January and February 1850 were avowed measures of repression against the peasant. The peasant
was a Bonapartist, because the Great Revolution, with all its benefits to him, was, in his eyes,
personified in Napoleon. This delusion, rapidly breaking M
down under the Second Empire (and in
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
its very nature hostile to the Rurals), this prejudice of the past, how could it have withstood the
appeal of the Commune to the living interests and urgent wants of the peasantry?
The Rurals - this was, in fact, their chief apprehension - knew that three months
communication of Communal Paris with the provinces would bring about a general rising of the
peasants, and hence their anM
xiety to establish a police blockade around Paris, so as to stop the
spread of the rindeipest [cattle pest - contagious disease].
If the Commune was thus the true representative of all the healthy elements of French society,
and therefore the truly national government, it was, at the same time, as a working men
government, as the bold champion of the emancipation of labor, emphatically international.
Within sight of that Prussian army, that had annexed to Germany two French provinces, the
 to France the working people all over the world.
The Second Empire had been the jubilee of cosmopolitan blackleggism, the rakes of all countries
rushing in at its call for a share in its orgies and in the plunder of the French people. Even at this
moment, the right hand of Thiers is Ganessco, the foul Wallachian, and his left hand is
Markovsky, the Russian spy. The Commune admitted all foreigners to the honor of dying for an
immortal cause. Between the foreign war lost by their treason, and the civil war fomM
conspiracy with the foreign invader, the bourgeoisie had found the time to display their patriotism
by organizing police hunts upon the Germans in France. The Commune made a German working
man [Leo Frankel] its Minister of Labor. Thiers, the bourgeoisie, the Second Empire, had
continually deluded Poland by loud professions of sympathy, while in reality betraying her to,
and doing the dirty work of, Russia. The Commune honoured the heroic sons of Poland [J.
Dabrowski and W. Wroblewski] by placinM
g them at the head of the defenders of Paris. And, to
broadly mark the new era of history it was conscious of initiating, under the eyes of the
conquering Prussians on one side, and the Bonapartist army, led by Bonapartist generals, on the
other, the Commune pulled down that colossal symbol of martial glory, the Vendome Column. 20
The great social measure of the Commune was its own working existence. Its special measures
could but betoken the tendency of a government of the people by the people. Such were theM
abolition of the nightwork of journeymen bakers; the prohibition, under penalty, of the
 practice to reduce wages by levying upon their workpeople fines under manifold
pretexts - a process in which the employer combines in his own person the parts of legislator,
judge, and executor, and filches the money to boot. Another measure of this class was the
surrender to associations of workmen, under reserve of compensation, of all closed workshops
and factories, no matter whether the respective capitalM
ists had absconded or preferred to strike
The financial measures of the Commune, remarkable for their sagacity and moderation, could
only be such as were compatible with the state of a besieged town. Considering the colossal
robberies committed upon the city of Paris by the great financial companies and contractors,
under the protection of Haussman, 21 the Commune would have had an incomparably better title to
confiscate their property than Louis Napoleon had against the Orleans family. The HohenzollemM
and the English oligarchs, who both have derived a good deal of their estates from church
plunders, were, of course, greatly shocked at the Commune clearing but 8,000f out of
While the Versailles government, as soon as it had recovered some spirit and strength, used the
most violent means against the Commune; while it put down the free expression of opinion all
over France, even to the forbidding of meetings of delegates from the large towns; while it
subjected Versailles and the rest of FrM
ance to an espionage far surpassing that of the Second
Empire; while it burned by its gendarme inquisitors all papers printed at Paris, and sifted all
correspondence from and to Paris; while in the National Assembly the most timid attempts to put
in a word for Paris were howled down in a manner u nk nown even to the Chambre introuvable of
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
1816; with the savage warfare of Versailles outside, and its attempts at corruption and coM
inside Paris - would the Commune not have shamefully betrayed its trust by affecting to keep all
the decencies and appearances of liberalism as in a time of profound peace? Had the government
of the Commune been akin to that of M. Thiers, there would have been no more occasion to
suppress Party of Order papers at Paris that there was to suppress Communal papers at Versailles.
It was irritating indeed to the Rurals that at the very same time they declared the return to the
church to be the only meansM
 of salvation for France, the infidel Commune unearthed the peculiar
mysteries of the Picpus nunnery 22 , and of the Church of St. Laurent. It was a satire upon M.
Thiers that, while he showered grand crosses upon the Bonapartist generals in acknowledgment
of their mastery in losing battles, singing capitulations, and turning cigarettes at Wilhelmshohe, 23
the Commune dismissed and arrested its generals whenever they were suspected of neglecting
their duties. The expulsion from, and arrest by, the Commune of oM
ne of its members [Blanchet]
who had slipped in under a false name, and had undergone at Lyons six days
simple bankruptcy, was it not a deliberate insult hurled at the forger, Jules Favre, then still the
foreign minister of France, still selling France to Bismarck, and still dictating his orders to that
paragon government of Belgium? But indeed the Commune did not pretend to infallibility, the
invariable attribute of all governments of the old stamp. It published its doings and sayings, it M
initiated the public into all its shortcomings.
In every revolution there intrude, at the side of its true agents, men of different stamp; some of
them survivors of and devotees to past revolutions, without insight into the present movement,
but preserving popular influence by their known honesty and courage, or by the sheer force of
tradition; others mere brawlers who, by dint of repeating year after year the same set of
stereotyped declarations against the government of the day, have sneaked into the reputM
revolutionists of the first water. After March 18, some such men did also turn up, and in some
cases contrived to play pre-eminent parts. As far as their power went, they hampered the real
action of the working class, exactly as men of that sort have hampered the full development of
every previous revolution. They are an unavoidable evil: with time they are shaken off; but time
was not allowed to the Commune.
Wonderful, indeed, was the change the Commune had wrought in Paris! No longer any trace of M
the tawdry Paris of the Second Empire! No longer was Paris the rendezvous of British landlords,
Irish absentees, 24 American ex-slaveholders and shoddy men, Russian ex-serfowners, and
Wallachian boyards. No more corpses at the morgue, no nocturnal burglaries, scarcely any
robberies; in fact, for the first time since the days of February 1848, the streets of Paris were safe,
and that without any police of any kind.
 said a member of the Commune,
hear no longer of assassination, theft, and personalM
assault; it seems indeed as if the police had dragged along with it to Versailles all its Conservative
The cocottes had refound the scent of their protectors - the absconding men of family, religion,
and, above all, of property. In their stead, the real women of Paris showed again at the surface -
heroic, noble, and devoted, like the women of antiquity. Working, thinking fighting, bleeding
Paris - almost forgetful, in its incubation of a new society, of the Cannibals at its gates - radiant
he enthusiasm of its historic initiative!
Opposed to this new world at Paris, behold the old world at Versailles - that assembly of the
ghouls of all defunct regimes, Legitimists and Orleanists, eager to feed upon the carcass of the
nation - with a tail of antediluvian republicans, sanctioning, by their presence in the Assembly,
 rebellion, relying for the maintenance of their parliamentary republic upon the
vanity of the senile mountebank at its head, and caricaturing 1789 by holding theirM
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
meetings in the Jeu de Paume. 1 There it was, this Assembly, the representative of everything dead
in France, propped up to the semblance of life by nothing but the swords of the generals of Louis
Bonaparte. Paris all truth, Versailles all lie; and that lie vented through the mouth of Thiers.
Thiers tells a deputation of the mayors of the Seine-et-Oise -
You may rely upon my word,
which I have never broken!
e tells the Assembly itself that
it was the most freely elected and most liberal Assembly France
; he tells his motley soldiery that it was
the admiration of the world, and the
finest army France ever possessed
; he tells the provinces that the bombardment of Paris by him
If some cannon-shots have been fired, it was not the deed of the army of Versailles,
but of some insurgents trying to make believe that they are fighting, while they dare not show
in tells the provinces that
the artillery of Versailles does not bombard Paris,
but only cannonades it.
 He tells the Archbishop of Paris that the pretended executions and
reprisals (!) attributed to the Versailles troops were all moonshine. He tells Paris that he was only
to free it from the hideous tyrants who oppress it,
 and that, in fact, the Paris of the
but a handful of criminals.
The Paris of M. Thiers was not the real Paris of the
Paris of the francs-fileurs , 25 the Paris of the Boulevards, male and female - the rich, the capitalist,
the gilded, the idle Paris, now thronging with its lackeys, its blacklegs, its literary bohome, and its
cocottes at Versailles, Saint-Denis, Rueil, and Saint-Germain; considering the civil war but an
agreeable diversion, eyeing the battle going on through telescopes, counting the rounds of
cannon, swearing by their own honour and that of their prostitutes, that the performance was far
got up than it used to be at the Porte St. Martin. The men who fell were really dead; the
cries of the wounded were cries in good earnest; and, besides, the whole thing was so intensely
This is the Paris of M. Thiers, as the emigration of Coblenz was the France of M. de Calonne. 26
1 The tennis court where the National Assembly of 1789 adopted its famous decisions. [Note to the German addition of
Third Address to the International Working Men
s Association, May 1871
1 The first Russian translation of the Manifesto of the Communist Party was made by Bakunin, who
despite being one of Marx and Engels
 most pronounced opponents in the working class movement,
saw the great revolutionary importance contained within the Manifesto. Published in Geneva in 1869
(printing it in Russia was impossible due to state censorship), Bakunin
 s translation was not
completely accurate, and was replaced a decade later by Plekhanov
s translation in 1882, for which
both Marx and EngelM
A reference to the events that occurred in Russia after the assassination, on March, 1, 1881, of
Emperor Alexander II by Narodnaya Volya members. Alexander III, his successor, was staying in
Gatchina for fear of further terrorism.
3 This preface was written by Engels on May 1, 1890, when, in accordance with the decision of the
Paris Congress of the Second International (July 1889), mass demonstrations, strikes and meetings
were held in numerous European and American countries. The worM
kers put forward the demand for an
8 hour working day and other demands set forth by the Congress. From that day forward workers all
over the world celebrate the first of May as a day of international proletarian solidarity.
4 A reference to the movement for an electoral reform which, under the pressure of the working class,
was passed by the British House of Commons in 1831 and finally endorsed by the House of Lords in
June, 1832. The reform was directed against monopoly rule of the landed and finance aristoM
opened the way to Parliament for the representatives of the industrial bourgeoisie. Neither workers nor
the petty-bourgeois were allowed electoral rights, despite assurances they would.
5 The famous final phrase of the Manifesto,
Working Men of All Countries, Unite!
 Proletarier alien Lander, vereinigt euch!
 Thus, a more correct translation would be
Proletarians of all countries, Unite!
Workers of the World, Unite. You have nothing to lose but your M
 is a popularisation of the
last three sentences, and is not found in any official translation. Since this English translation was
approved by Engels, we have kept the original intact.
(1 In their works written in later periods, Marx and Engels substituted the more accurate concepts of
sale of labour power
value of labour power
price of labour power
 (first introduced by
ft half a page blank here in the manuscript. The
Draft of the Communist Confession of
 has the answer shown for the same question (Number 12).
 here, referring to the answer in the June draft under No. 21 as shown.
9 Similarly, this refers to the answer to Question 23 in the June draft.
10 The Chartists were the participants in the political movement of the British workers which lasted
from the 1830s to the middle 1850s and had as its slogan the adoption of aM
demanding universal franchise and a series of conditions guaranteeing voting rights for all workers.
Lenin defined Chartism as the world
first broad, truly mass and politically organized proletarian
revolutionary movement
 (Collected Works, Eng. ed., Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1965, Vol. 29, p.
309.) The decline of the Chartist movement was due to the strengthening of Britain
commercial monopoly and the bribing of the upper stratum of the working class (
) by the British bourgeoisie out of its super-profits. Both factors led to the strengthening of
opportunist tendencies in this stratum as expressed, in particular, by the refusal of the trade union
leaders to support Chartism.
11 Probably a references to the National Reform Association, founded during the 1840s by George H.
Evans, with headquarters in New York City, which had for its motto,
Vote Yourself a Farm
Third Address to the International Working Men
A top-down system of appointing officials in bourgeois systems, where high-up officials appoint
many or all lower officials.
Girondins - The party of the influential bourgeoisie during the French revolution at the end of the
18th century. (The name is derived from the Department of Gironde.) It came out against the Jacobin
government and the revolutionary masses which supported it, under the banner of defending the
 right to autonomy and federation.
e influential bourgeoisie during the French revolution at the end of the 18th century.
(The name is derived from the Department of Gironde.) It came out against the Jacobin government
and the revolutionary masses which supported it, under the banner of defending the departments
to autonomy and federation.
15 A reference to the Paris Commune
s decree of April 16, 1871, providing for payment of all debts in
instalments over three years and abolition of interest on them.
16 On Aug. 22, 1848, the ConM
stituent Assembly rejected the bill on
amiable) aimed to introduce the deferred payment of debts. As a result of this measure, a
considerable section of the petty-bourgeoisie were utterly ruined and found themselves completely
dependent on the creditors of the richest bourgeoisie.
17 Freres Ignorantins - Ignorant Brothers, a nickname for a religious order, founded in Rheims in
1680, whose members pledged themselves to educate children of the poor. The pupils receiveM
predominantly religious education and barely any knowledge otherwise.
Alliance republicaine des Departements - a political association of petty-bourgeois representatives
from the various departments of France, who lived in Paris; calling on the people to fight against the
Versailles government and the monarchist National Assembly and to support the Commune
throughout the country.
19 The law of April 27, 1825 on the payment of compensation to the former emigres for the landed
states confiscated frM
om them during the preceding French Revolution.
The Vendome Column was erected between 1806 and 1810 in Paris in honour of the victories of
Napoleonic France; it was made out of the bronze captured from enemy guns and was crowned by a
statue of Napoleon. On May 16, 1871, by order of the Paris Commune, the Vendome Column was
21 During the Second Empire, Baron Haussmann was Prefect of the Department of the Seine (the City
of Paris). He introduced a number of changes in the layout of the cityM
 for the purpose of crushing
22 In the Picpus nunnery cases of the nuns being incarcerated in cells for many years were exposed and
instruments of torture were found; in the church of St. Laurent a secret cemetery was found attesting
to the murders that had been committed there. These facts were exposed by the Commune
Ordre on May 5, 1871, and in a pamphlet Les Crimes des congregations religieuses.
The chief occupation of the French prisoners of war in WilhelmM
shohe (those captured after the
Battle of Sedan) was making cigars for their own use.
Rich landowners who hardly ever visited their estates, but instead had their land managed by agents
or leased it to petty-bourgeois who, in their turn, sub-leased the land at high rents.
25 Francs-flleurs - literally rendered:
 the nickname given to the Paris bourgeois who
fled from the city during the siege. The name carried brazen historical irony as a result of its
resemblance to the word
) - French guerrillas who actively
fought against the Prussians.
26 A city in Germany; during the French Revolution at the end of the 18th-century it was the centre
where the landlord monarchist emigres made preparations for intervention against revolutionary
France. Coblenz was the seat of the emigre government headed by the rabid reactionary de Calonne, a
former minister of Louis XVI.
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_Title:_ Of Mice and Men
_Date of first publication:_ 1937
_Author:_ John Steinbeck (1902-1968)
_Date first posted:_ Jan. 20, 2021
_Date last updated:_ Jan. 20, 2021
Faded Page eBook #20210154
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                          [Cover Illustration]
                     O F   M I C E   A N D   M E N
                            Of Mice and Men
                      J O H N   S T E I N B E C K
                     PUBLISHED BY THE VIKING PRESS
                                NEW YORK
         Copyright 1937 by John Steinbeck. All rights reserved
                         Compass Books Edition
                IssM
ued in 1963 by The Viking Press, Inc.
               625 Madison Avenue, New York 22, New York
    Distributed in Canada by The Macmillan Company of Canada Limited
                                 M B G
                Set in Janson and Times Roman types and
   Printed in the United States of America by The Murray Printing Co.
                     O F   M I C E   A N D   M E N
                                   1
A few miles south of Soledad, the Salinas River drops in close to the
hillside bank and runs deep and green. The water is warm too, for it has
slipped twinkling over the yellow sands in the sunlight before reaching
the narrow pool. On one side of the river the golden foothill slopes
curve up to the strong and rocky Gabilan mountains, but on the valley
side the water is lined with trees
willows fresh and green with every
spring, carrying in their lower leaf junctures the debris of the
s flooding; and sycamores with mottled, white, recumbent limbs
and branches that arM
ch over the pool. On the sandy bank under the trees
the leaves lie deep and so crisp that a lizard makes a great skittering
if he runs among them. Rabbits come out of the brush to sit on the sand
in the evening, and the damp flats are covered with the night tracks of
coons, and with the spread pads of dogs from the ranches, and with the
split-wedge tracks of deer that come to drink in the dark.
There is a path through the willows and among the sycamores, a path
beaten hard by boys coming down from the rM
anches to swim in the deep
pool, and beaten hard by tramps who come wearily down from the highway
in the evening to jungle-up near water. In front of the low horizontal
limb of a giant sycamore there is an ash pile made by many fires; the
limb is worn smooth by men who have sat on it.
                 *        *        *        *        *
Evening of a hot day started the little wind to moving among the leaves.
The shade climbed up the hills toward the top. On the sand banks the
rabbits sat as quietly asM
 little gray, sculptured stones. And then from
the direction of the state highway came the sound of footsteps on crisp
sycamore leaves. The rabbits hurried noiselessly for cover. A stilted
heron labored up into the air and pounded down river. For a moment the
place was lifeless, and then two men emerged from the path and came into
the opening by the green pool.
They had walked in single file down the path, and even in the open one
stayed behind the other. Both were dressed in denim trousers and in
oats with brass buttons. Both wore black, shapeless hats and both
carried tight blanket rolls slung over their shoulders. The first man
was small and quick, dark of face, with restless eyes and sharp, strong
features. Every part of him was defined: small, strong hands, slender
arms, a thin and bony nose. Behind him walked his opposite, a huge man,
shapeless of face, with large, pale eyes, with wide, sloping shoulders;
and he walked heavily, dragging his feet a little, the way a bear drags
his paws. His arms M
did not swing at his sides, but hung loosely.
The first man stopped short in the clearing, and the follower nearly ran
over him. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat-band with his
forefinger and snapped the moisture off. His huge companion dropped his
blankets and flung himself down and drank from the surface of the green
pool; drank with long gulps, snorting into the water like a horse. The
small man stepped nervously beside him.
Lennie continued to snort into the pool. The small man leaned over and
shook him by the shoulder.
Lennie. You gonna be sick like you was last
Lennie dipped his whole head under, hat and all, and then he sat up on
the bank and his hat dripped down on his blue coat and ran down his
You drink some, George. You take a good
George unslung his bindle and dropped it gently on the bank.
Lennie dabbled his big paw in the water and wiggled his fingers so the
water arose in little splashes; rings widened across the pool to the
other side and came back again. Lennie watched them go.
George knelt beside the pool and drank from his hand with quick scoops.
t really seem to be running,
though. You never oughta drink water when it ain
d drink out of a gutter if you was thirsty.
threw a scoop of water into his face and rubbed it about with his hand,
under his chin and around the back of his neck. Then he replaced his
hat, pushed himself back from the river, drew up his knees and embraced
them. Lennie, who had been watching, imitated George exactly. He pushed
himself back, drew up his knees, embraced them, looked over to George to
see whether he had it just right. He pulled his hat down a little more
George stared morosely at the water. The rims of his eyes were red with
sun glare. He said angrily,
We could just as well of rode clear to the
ranch if that bastard bus driver knew what he was talkin
little stretch down the highway,
damn near four miles, that
t wanta stop at the ranch
s what. Too God damn lazy to pull up. Wonder he isn
damn good to stop in SolM
edad at all. Kicks us out and says,
little stretch down the road.
 I bet it was _more_ than four miles. Damn
Lennie looked timidly over to him.
The little man jerked down the brim of his hat and scowled over at
So you forgot that awready, did you? I gotta tell you again, do
I? Jesus Christ, you
 Lennie said softly.
I tried not to forget. Honest toM
ll tell ya again. I ain
t got nothing to do. Might jus
 you things and then you forget
good. I remember about the rabbits, George.
The hell with the rabbits. That
s all you ever can remember is them
rabbits. O.K.! Now you listen and this time you got to remember so we
t get in no trouble. You remember settin
hat gutter on Howard
s face broke into a delighted smile.
remember that . . . but . . . what
d we do then? I remember some girls
come by and you says . . . you say . . .
The hell with what I says. You remember about us goin
s, and they give us work cards and bus tickets?
Oh, sure, George. I remember that now.
 His hands went quickly into his
side coat pockets. He said gently,
 He looked down at the ground in despair.
You never had none, you crazy bastard. I got both of
d let you carry your own work card?
Lennie grinned with relief.
I . . . I thought I put it in my side
 His hand went into the pocket again.
George looked sharply at him.
d you take outa that pocket?
t a thing in my pocket,
 Lennie said cleverly.
t. You got it in your hand. WM
Come on, give it here.
Lennie held his closed hand away from George
A mouse? A live mouse?
 a dead mouse, George. I didn
 kill it. Honest! I found it.
Aw, leave me have it, George.
s closed hand slowly obeyed. George took the moM
across the pool to the other side, among the brush.
dead mouse, anyways?
I could pet it with my thumb while we walked along,
t petting no mice while you walk with me. You remember
Lennie looked startled and then in embarrassment hid his face against
 George said resignedly.
a ranch like the one we comeM
Oh, sure. I remember. In Weed.
 to is right down there about a quarter mile.
 see the boss. Now, look
ll give him the work
tickets, but you ain
t gonna say a word. You jus
 stand there and don
say nothing. If he finds out what a crazy bastard you are, we won
no job, but if he sees ya work before he hears ya talk, we
Sure, George. Sure I M
O.K. Now when we go in to see the boss, what you gonna do?
 Lennie thought. His face grew tight with thought.
s swell. You say that over two, three times so you sure
Lennie droned to himself softly,
nna do no bad things like you done
Lennie looked puzzled.
Like I done in Weed?
Oh, so ya forgot that too, did ya? Well, I ain
t gonna remind ya, fear
A light of understanding broke on Lennie
 he exploded triumphantly.
 said George disgustedly.
We run. They was lookin
for us, but they didn
Lennie giggled happily.
t forget that, you bet.
 back on the sand and crossed his hands under his head, and
Lennie imitated him, raising his head to see whether he were doing it
re a lot of trouble,
so easy and so nice if I didn
t have you on my tail. I could live so
easy and maybe have a girl.
For a moment Lennie lay quiet, and then he said hopefully,
work on a ranch, George.
Awright. You got that. But we
re gonna sleep here because I got a
oing fast now. Only the tops of the Gabilan mountains
flamed with the light of the sun that had gone from the valley. A water
snake slipped along on the pool, its head held up like a little
periscope. The reeds jerked slightly in the current. Far off toward the
highway a man shouted something, and another man shouted back. The
sycamore limbs rustled under a little wind that died immediately.
 on to the ranch and get some supper? They
got supper at the ranch.
No reason at all for you. I like it here.
re gonna go to work. I seen thrashin
 machines on the way
ll be bucking grain bags, bustin
gonna lay right here and look up. I like it.
Lennie got up on his knees and looked down at George.
Sure we are, if you gather up some dead willow sticks. I got three can
of beans in my bindle. You get a fire ready. I
ll give you a match when
 get the sticks together. Then we
ll heat the beans and have supper.
I like beans with ketchup.
t got no ketchup. You go get wood. An
ll be dark before long.
Lennie lumbered to his feet and disappeared in the brush. George lay
where he was and whistled softly to himself. There were sounds of
splashings down the river in the direction Lennie had taken. George
stopped whistling and listened.
went on whistling again.
In a moment Lennie came crashing back through the brush. He carried one
small willow stick in his hand. George sat up.
But Lennie made an elaborate pantomime of innocence.
George held out his hand.
Come on. Give it to me. You ain
Lennie hesitated, backed away, looked wildly at the brush line as though
he contemplated runniM
ng for his freedom. George said coldly,
give me that mouse or do I have to sock you?
Give you what, George?
You know God damn well what. I want that mouse.
Lennie reluctantly reached into his pocket. His voice broke a little.
 right beside the road.
s hand remained outstretched imperiously. Slowly, like a terrier
t want to bring a ball to itM
s master, Lennie approached, drew
back, approached again. George snapped his fingers sharply, and at the
sound Lennie laid the mouse in his hand.
 nothing bad with it, George. Jus
George stood up and threw the mouse as far as he could into the
darkening brush, and then he stepped to the pool and washed his hands.
t you think I could see your feet was wet where you
went acrost the river to get it?
s whimpering cry and
 like a baby! Jesus Christ! A big guy like
s lip quivered and tears started in his eyes.
George put his hand on Lennie
for meanness. That mouse ain
t fresh, Lennie; and besides, you
 it. You get another mouse that
Lennie sat down on the ground and hung his head dejectedly.
know where there is no othM
er mouse. I remember a lady used to give
 one she got. But that lady ain
t even remember who that lady was. That
was your own Aunt Clara. An
em to ya. You always
Lennie looked sadly up at him.
em, and pretty soon they bit my fingers and I
pinched their heads a little and then they was dead
d get the rabbits pretty soon, George. They ain
The hell with the rabbits. An
t to be trusted with no live
mice. Your Aunt Clara give you a rubber mouse and you wouldn
nothing to do with it.
The flame of the sunset lifted from the mountain-tops and dusk came into
the valley, and a half darkness came in among the willows and the
sycamores. A big carp rose to the surface of the pool, gulped air aM
then sank mysteriously into the dark water again, leaving widening rings
on the water. Overhead the leaves whisked again and little puffs of
willow cotton blew down and landed on the pool
You gonna get that wood?
against the back of that sycamore. Floodwater wood. Now you get it.
Lennie went behind the tree and brought out a litter of dried leaves and
twigs. He threw them in a heap on the old ash pile and went back for
 It was almost night now. A dove
s wings whistled over the
water. George walked to the fire pile and lighted the dry leaves. The
flame cracked up among the twigs and fell to work. George undid his
bindle and brought out three cans of beans. He stood them about the
fire, close in against the blaze, but not quite touching the flame.
s enough beans for four men,
Lennie watched him from over the fire. He said patiently,
s what you want. God a
mighty, if I was alone I could live so easy.
I could go get a job an
 no trouble. No mess at all, and when
the end of the month come I could take my fifty bucks and go into town
and get whatever I want. Why, I could stay in a cat house all night. I
could eat any place I want, hotel or any place, and order any damn thing
I could think of. An
 I could do all that every damn month. Get a gallon
 in a pool room and play cards or shoot pool.
knelt and looked over the fire at the angry George. And Lennie
was drawn with terror.
 George went on furiously.
t keep a job and you lose me ever
 all over the country all the time. An
You get in trouble. You do bad things and I got to get you out.
voice rose nearly to a shout.
You crazy son-of-a-bitch. You keep me in
 water all the time.
 He took on the elaborate manner of little girls
when they are mimicking one another.
 wanted to feel that girl
 wanted to pet it like it was a mouse
did she know you jus
 wanted to feel her dress? She jerks back and you
hold on like it was a mouse. She yells and we got to hide in a
irrigation ditch all day with guys lookin
 for us, and we got to sneak
out in the dark and get outta the country. All the time somethin
all the time. I wisht I could put you in a cage with about a
 His anger left him suddenly. He
looked across the fire at Lennie
s anguished face, and then he looked
ashamedly at the flames.
It was quite dark now, but the fire lighted the trunks of the trees and
the curving branches overhead. Lennie crawled slowly and cautiously
around the fire until he was close to George. He sat back on his heels.
George turned the bean cans so that another side faced the fire. He
pretended to be unaware of Lennie so close beside him.
 very softly. No answer.
t want no ketchup. I wouldn
ketchup if it was right here beside me.
If it was here, you could have some.
t eat none, George. I
d leave it all for you. You could
cover your beans with it and I wouldn
George still stared morosely at the fire.
When I think of theM
time I could have without you, I go nuts. I never get no peace.
Lennie still knelt. He looked off into the darkness across the river.
George, you want I should go away and leave you alone?
Where the hell could you go?
Well, I could. I could go off in the hills there. Some place I
t got sense enough to find nothing to
d find things, George. I don
t need no nice food with ketchup. I
d take it away from me.
George looked quickly and searchingly at him.
 want me I can go off in the hills an
 find a cave. I can go
Cause I want you to stay with
me. Trouble with mice is you always kill
ll do, Lennie. First chance I get I
ll give you a pup. MaybeM
d be better than mice. And you could pet it
Lennie avoided the bait. He had sensed his advantage.
 got to say so, and I
ll go off in those hills right
right up in those hills and live by myself. An
I want you to stay with me, Lennie. Jesus Christ,
d shoot you for a coyote if you was by yourself. No, you stay
with me. Your Aunt Clara wouldn
t like you running off by yourself, even
Lennie spoke craftily,
like you done before.
t gonna put nothing over on me.
Come on, George. Tell me. Please, George. Like you done
You get a kick outta that, don
ll tell you, and then
ll eat our supper. . . .
s voice became deeper. He repeated his words rhythmicallyM
though he had said them many times before.
Guys like us, that work on
ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They
t belong no place. They come to a ranch an
 work up a stake and then
they go inta town and blow their stake, and the first thing you know
 their tail on some other ranch. They ain
Lennie was delighted.
s it. Now tell how it is with
t like that. We got a future. We got
somebody to talk to that gives a damn about us. We don
 because we got no place else to go.
If them other guys gets in jail they can rot for all anybody gives a
 why? Because . . . because I got you
to look after me, and you got me to look after you, and that
laughed delightedly.
You got it by heart. YoM
u can do it yourself.
No, you. I forget some a
 the things. Tell about how it
re gonna get the jack together and we
little house and a couple of acres an
 a cow and some pigs and
 live off the fatta the lan
_rabbits_. Go on, George! Tell about what we
re gonna have in the garden
and about the rabbits in the cages and about the rain in the winter and
the stove, and how thick the M
cream is on the milk like you can hardly
cut it. Tell about that, George.
t you do it yourself? You know all of it.
No . . . you tell it. It ain
t the same if I tell it. Go on . . .
George. How I get to tend the rabbits.
ll have a big vegetable patch and a rabbit
hutch and chickens. And when it rains in the winter, we
ll build up a fire in the stove and set
out his pocket knife.
t got time for no more.
through the top of one of the bean cans, sawed out the top and passed
the can to Lennie. Then he opened a second can. From his side pocket he
brought out two spoons and passed one of them to Lennie.
They sat by the fire and filled their mouths with beans and chewed
mightily. A few beans slipped out of the side of Lennie
gestured with his spoon.
ay tomorrow when the boss asks
Lennie stopped chewing and swallowed. His face was concentrated.
t gonna . . . say a word.
s fine, Lennie! Maybe you
 better. When we get
the coupla acres I can let you tend the rabbits all right.
you remember as good as that.
Lennie choked with pride.
George motioned with his spoon again.
Look, Lennie. I want you to look
around here. You can M
remember this place, can
t you? The ranch is about
a quarter mile up that way. Just follow the river?
I can remember this. Di
t I remember about not
Course you did. Well, look. Lennie
trouble like you always done before, I want you to come right here an
 said Lennie slowly.
Hide in the brush till I come for you. Can you remember that?
can, George. Hide in the brush till you come.
t gonna get in no trouble, because if you do, I won
you tend the rabbits.
 He threw his empty bean can off into the brush.
t get in no trouble, George. I ain
O.K. Bring your bindle over here by the fire. It
 up, and the leaves. Don
t build up no more fire.
ll let her die down.
They made their beds on the sand, and as the blaze droppedM
the sphere of light grew smaller; the curling branches disappeared and
only a faint glimmer showed where the tree trunks were. From the
darkness Lennie called,
No. Whatta you want?
s have different color rabbits, George.
 George said sleepily.
Red and blue and green rabbits,
Lennie. Millions of
Furry ones, George, like I seen in the fair in Sacramento.
 as well go away, George, an
 as well go to hell,
The red light dimmed on the coals. Up the hill from the river a coyote
yammered, and a dog answered from the other side of the stream. The
sycamore leaves whispered in a little night breeze.
                                   2
The bunk house was a long, rectangular building. Inside, the walls were
whitewashed and the floor unpainted. In three walls there were small,
square windows, and in the fourth, a solid door with a wooden latch.
Against the walls were eight bunks, five of them made up with blankets
and the other three showing their burlap ticking. Over each bunk there
was nailed an apple box with the opening forward so that it made two
shelves for the personal belongings of the occupant of the bunk. And
these shelves were loaded with little articles, soap and talcum powder,
razors and those Western magazines ranch men love to read and scoff at
and secretly believeM
. And there were medicines on the shelves, and
little vials, combs; and from nails on the box sides, a few neckties.
Near one wall there was a black cast-iron stove, its stovepipe going
straight up through the ceiling. In the middle of the room stood a big
square table littered with playing cards, and around it were grouped
boxes for the players to sit on.
clock in the morning the sun threw a bright dust-laden
bar through one of the side windows, and in and out of the beam flies
The wooden latch raised. The door opened and a tall, stoop-shouldered
old man came in. He was dressed in blue jeans and he carried a big
push-broom in his left hand. Behind him came George, and behind George,
The boss was expectin
as hell when you wasn
t here to go out this morning.
his right arm, and out of the sleeve came a round stick-like wrist, but
You can have them two beds there,
he said, indicating two
bunks near the stove.
George stepped over and threw his blankets down on the burlap sack of
straw that was a mattress. He looked into his box shelf and then picked
a small yellow can from it.
positively kills lice, roaches and other scourges.
kind of bed you giving us, anyways. We don
t want no pants rabbits.
The old swamper shifted his broom and held it between his elbM
side while he held out his hand for the can. He studied the label
last guy that had this
bed was a blacksmith
hell of a nice fella and as clean a guy as you
want to meet. Used to wash his hands even _after_ he ate.
Then how come he got graybacks?
 George was working up a slow anger.
Lennie put his bindle on the neighboring bunk and sat down. He watched
George with open mouth.
 said the old swamper.
was the kind of guy that would put that stuff around even if
just to make sure, see? Tell you what he used to
little spot, no matter what kind, before he
d eat it. And if there was a
red splotch on an egg, he
d scrape it off. Finally quit about the food.
s the kinda guy he was
clean. Used ta dress up Sundays even when
t going no place, put on a necktie M
even, and then set in the
 said George skeptically.
What did you say he quit
The old man put the yellow can in his pocket, and he rubbed his bristly
white whiskers with his knuckles.
Why . . . he . . . just quit, the way
a guy will. Says it was the food. Just wanted to move. Didn
other reason but the food. Just says
George lifted his tick and looked underneath it. He leaned over aM
inspected the sacking closely. Immediately Lennie got up and did the
same with his bed. Finally George seemed satisfied. He unrolled his
bindle and put things on the shelf, his razor and bar of soap, his comb
and bottle of pills, his liniment and leather wristband. Then he made
his bed up neatly with blankets. The old man said,
be out here in a minute. He was sure burned when you wasn
morning. Come right in when we was eatin
 breakfast and says,
 he give the stable buck hell, too.
George patted a wrinkle out of his bed, and sat down.
Sure. Ya see the stable buck
Yeah. Nice fella too. Got a crooked back where a horse kicked him. The
boss gives him hell when he
s mad. But the stable buck don
about that. He reads a lot. Got books in his room.
What kind of a guy is the boss?
s a pretty nice fella. Gets pretty mad sometimes, but he
pretty nice. Tell ya what
know what he done Christmas? Brang a gallon
of whisky right in here and says,
Drink hearty boys. Christmas comes
The hell he did! Whole gallon?
Yes sir. Jesus, we had fun. They let the nigger come in that night.
Little skinner name of Smitty took after the nigger. Done pretty good,
too. The guys wouldn
t let him use his feet, so the nigger got him. If
he coulda used his feet, SM
mitty says he woulda kilted the nigger. The
guys said on account of the nigger
s got a crooked back, Smitty can
 He paused in relish of the memory.
went into Soledad and raised hell. I didn
t go in there. I ain
Lennie was just finishing making his bed. The wooden latch raised again
and the door opened. A little stocky man stood in the open doorway. He
wore blue jean trousers, a flannel shirt, a black, unbuttoned vest and a
oat. His thumbs were stuck in his belt, on each side of a square
steel buckle. On his head was a soiled brown Stetson hat, and he wore
high-heeled boots and spurs to prove he was not a laboring man.
The old swamper looked quickly at him, and then shuffled to the door
rubbing his whiskers with his knuckles as he went,
 he said, and shuffled past the boss and out the door.
The boss stepped into the room with the short, quick steps of a
I wrote Murray and Ready IM
 wanted two men this morning.
You got your work slips?
 George reached into his pocket and produced
the slips and handed them to the boss.
fault. Says right here on the slip that you was to be here for work this
George looked down at his feet.
Bus driver give us a bum steer,
We hadda walk ten miles. Says we was here when we wasn
t get no rides in the morning.
The boss squinted his eyes.
Well, I had to send out theM
short two buckers. Won
t do any good to go out now till after dinner.
He pulled his time book out of his pocket and opened it where a pencil
was stuck between the leaves. George scowled meaningfully at Lennie, and
Lennie nodded to show that he understood. The boss licked his pencil.
The names were entered in the book.
s see, this is the twentieth,
 He closed the book.
Where you boys been working?
The boss pointed a playful finger at Lennie.
s sure a hell of a good worker. Strong as a bull.
Lennie smiled to himself.
George scowled at him, and Lennie dropped his head in shame at having
 Lennie raised his head.
In a panic, Lennie looked at George for help.
He can do anything you
s a good skinner. He can rassel grain bags,
drive a cultivator. He can do anything. Just give him a try.
The boss turned on George.
t you let him answer? What you
George broke in loudly,
s a God damn good worker. M
He can put up a four hundred pound
The boss deliberately put the little book in his pocket. He hooked his
thumbs in his belt and squinted one eye nearly closed.
I said what stake you got in this guy? You takin
Well, I never seen one guy take so much trouble for another guy. I just
like to know what your interest is.
s my . . . cousin. I told his old lady I
him. He got kicked in the head by a horse when he was a kid. He
t bright. But he can do anything you tell him.
The boss turned half away.
Well, God knows he don
t need any brains to
buck barley bags. But don
t you try to put nothing over, Milton. I got
 said George promptly.
We . . . we was diggin
t try to put nothing over,
with nothing. I seen wise guys before. Go on out with the grain teams
 up barley at the threshing machine. Go out
Yeah. Big tall skinner. You
ll see him at dinner.
and went to the door, but before he went out he turned and looked for a
long moment at the two men.
When the sound of his footsteps had died away, George turned on LenniM
t gonna say a word. You was gonna leave your big flapper
shut and leave me do the talkin
. Damn near lost us the job.
Lennie stared hopelessly at his hands.
Yeah, you forgot. You always forget, an
 I got to talk you out of it.
He sat down heavily on the bunk.
s got his eye on us. Now we got
to be careful and not make no slips. You keep your big flapper shut
 He fell morosely silent.
t kicked in the head with no horse, was I, George?
Be a damn good thing if you was,
 George said viciously.
body a hell of a lot of trouble.
You said I was your cousin, George.
Well, that was a lie. An
m damn glad it was. If I was a relative of
 He stopped suddenly, stepped to the open front
door and peered out.
Say, what the hell you doin
The old man came slowly into the room. He had his bM
room in his hand. And
at his heels there walked a dragfooted sheep dog, gray of muzzle, and
with pale, blind old eyes. The dog struggled lamely to the side of the
room and lay down, grunting softly to himself and licking his grizzled,
moth-eaten coat. The swamper watched him until he was settled.
 in the shade a minute scratchin
 now finished swampin
 our the wash house.
 your big ears into our business,
like nobody to get nosey.
The old man looked uneasily from George to Lennie, and then back.
t hear nothing you guys was sayin
t interested in nothing you was sayin
. A guy on a ranch don
 said George, slightly mollified,
 But he was reassured by the swamper
Come on in and set down M
im ever since he was a pup. God, he was a good sheep dog
when he was younger.
 He stood his broom against the wall and he rubbed
his white bristled cheek with his knuckles.
d you like the boss?
Pretty good. Seemed awright.
 the swamper agreed.
You got to take him right.
At that moment a young man came into the bunk house; a thin young man
with a brown face, withM
 brown eyes and a head of tightly curled hair. He
wore a work glove on his left hand, and, like the boss, he wore
 a minute ago, Curley. Went over to
the cook house, I think.
ll try to catch him,
 said Curley. His eyes passed over the new men
and he stopped. He glanced coldly at George and then at Lennie. His arms
gradually bent at the elbows and his hands closed into fists. He
stiffened and went into M
a slight crouch. His glance was at once
calculating and pugnacious. Lennie squirmed under the look and shifted
his feet nervously. Curley stepped gingerly close to him.
guys the old man was waitin
Let the big guy talk.
Lennie twisted with embarrassment.
Curley lashed his body around.
s gotta talk when he
spoke to. What the hell are you gettin
 said George coldly.
George was tense, and motionless.
Lennie was looking helplessly to George for instruction.
t let the big guy talk, is that it?
He can talk if he wants to tell you anything.
 He nodded slightly to
 said Lennie softly.
Curley stared levelly at him.
 time you answer when you
the door and walked out, and his elbows were
still bent out a little.
George watched him out, and then he turned back to the swamper.
s he got on his shoulder? Lennie didn
The old man looked cautiously at the door to make sure no one was
handy. He done quite a bit in the ring. He
s a lightweight, and he
Well, let him be handy,
t have to take after
t do nothing to him. What
s he got against Lennie?
The swamper considered. . . .
Well . . . tell you what. Curley
lot of little guys. He hates big guys. He
s alla time picking scraps
with big guys. Kind of like he
You seen little guys like that, ain
t you? Always scrappy?
I seen plenty tough little guys. But this Curley
better not make no mistakes about LennieM
Curley punk is gonna get hurt if he messes around with Lennie.
 the swamper said skeptically.
pose Curley jumps a big guy an
says what a game guy Curley is. And s
pose he does the same thing and
gets licked. Then ever
body says the big guy oughtta pick somebody his
own size, and maybe they gang up on the big guy. Never did seem right to
me. Seems like Curley ain
George was watching the door. He said ominously,
Well, he better watch
out for Lennie. Lennie ain
t no fighter, but Lennie
 He walked to the square table and sat
down on one of the boxes. He gathered some of the cards together and
The old man sat down on another box.
t tell Curley I said none of
d slough me. He just don
George cut the cards and began turning them over, looking at each one
and throwing it down on a pile. He said,
This guy Curley sounds like a
son-of-a-bitch to me. I don
t like mean little guys.
a couple of weeks ago. Wife lives over in the boss
n ever since he got married.
The swamper warmed tM
You seen that glove on his left
Vaseline? What the hell for?
Well, I tell ya what
 that hand soft for his
George studied the cards absorbedly.
s a dirty thing to tell
The old man was reassured. He had drawn a derogatory statement from
George. He felt safe now, and he spoke more confidently.
George cut the cards again and put out a solitaire lay, slowly and
Yeah. Purty . . . but
George studied his cards.
Yeah? Married two weeks and got the eye? Maybe that
pants is full of ants.
I seen her give Slim the eye. Slim
s a jerkline skinner. Hell of a nice
t need to wear no high-heeled boots on a grain team. I
seen her give Slim the M
eye. Curley never seen it. An
George pretended a lack of interest.
Looks like we was gonna have fun.
The swamper stood up from his box.
Well, I think Curley
s married . . . a tart.
The old man moved toward the door, and his ancient dog lifted his head
and peered about, and then got painfully to his feet to follow.
 out the wash basins for the guys. The teams
long. You guys gonna buck barley?
t tell Curley nothing I said?
Well, you look her over, mister. You see if she ain
stepped out the door into the brilliant sunshine.
George laid down his cards thoughtfully, turned his piles of three. He
built four clubs on his ace pile. The sun square was on the floor now,
and the flies whipped through it like sparks. A sounM
harness and the croak of heavy-laden axles sounded from outside. From
the distance came a clear call.
Where the hell is that God damn nigger?
George stared at his solitaire lay, and then he flounced the cards
together and turned around to Lennie. Lennie was lying down on the bunk
Look, Lennie! This here ain
m scared. You gonna have
trouble with that Curley guy. I seen that kind before. He was kinda
 you out. He figures he
s got you scared and he
sock at you the first chance he gets.
s eyes were frightened.
t let him sock me, George.
George got up and went over to Lennie
s bunk and sat down on it.
em. Like the old guy
t take no chances. He always wins.
If he tangles with you, LenM
re gonna get the can. Don
make no mistake about that. He
s son. Look, Lennie. You try
to keep away from him, will you? Don
t never speak to him. If he comes
in here you move clear to the other side of the room. Will you do that,
I never done nothing to
t do you no good if Curley wants to plug himself up for
t have nothing to do with him. Will you remember?
The sound of the approaching grain teams was louder, thud of big hooves
on hard ground, drag of brakes and the jingle of trace chains. Men were
calling back and forth from the teams. George, sitting on the bunk
beside Lennie, frowned as he thought. Lennie asked timidly,
m mad at this here Curley bastard. I hoped we was
gonna get a little stake together
maybe a hundred dollars.
You keep away from Curley, Lennie.
Sure I will, George. I won
t let him pull you in
if the son-of-a-bitch socks you
im have what, George?
Never mind, never mind. I
ll tell you when. I hate that kind of a guy.
Look, Lennie, if you get in any kind of trouble, you remember what I
Lennie raised up on his elbow. His face contorted with thought. Then his
eyes moved sadly to George
If I get in any trouble, you ain
gonna let me tend the rabbits.
s not what I meant. You remember where we slep
Yeah, I remember. Oh, sure I remember! I go there an
Hide till I come for you. Don
t let nobody see you. Hide in the brush
by the river. Say that over.
Hide in the brush by the river, down in the brush by the river.
If you get in trouble.
If I get in trouble.
reeched outside. A call came,
Say it over to yourself, Lennie, so you won
Both men glanced up, for the rectangle of sunshine in the doorway was
cut off. A girl was standing there looking in. She had full, rouged lips
and wide-spaced eyes, heavily made up. Her fingernails were red. Her
hair hung in little rolled clusters, like sausages. She wore a cotton
house dress and red mules, on the insteps of which were little bouquets
 she said. Her voice
had a nasal, brittle quality.
George looked away from her and then back.
He was in here a minute ago,
 She put her hands behind her back and leaned against the door
frame so that her body was thrown forward.
re the new fellas that
s eyes moved down over her body, and though she did not seem to
be looking at Lennie she bridled a little. She lookM
George said brusquely,
t, I guess I better look some place else,
Lennie watched her, fascinated. George said,
the word you was looking for him.
She smiled archly and twitched her body.
 she said. There were footsteps behind her, going by. She
s voice came through the door.
 to find Curley, Slim.
 very hard. I seen him goin
She was suddenly apprehensive.
 she called into the bunk
house, and she hurried away.
George looked around at Lennie.
Jesus, what a tramp,
s what Curley picks for a wife.
 said Lennie defensively.
rley got his work ahead of him. Bet
d clear out for twenty bucks.
Lennie still stared at the doorway where she had been.
 He smiled admiringly. George looked quickly down at him and then
he took him by an ear and shook him.
Listen to me, you crazy bastard,
take a look at that bitch. I don
t care what she says and what she does.
em poison before, but I never seen no piece of jail bait worse
than her. You leave her M
Lennie tried to disengage his ear.
I never done nothing, George.
No, you never. But when she was standin
 in the doorway showin
 the other way, neither.
I never meant no harm, George. Honest I never.
Well, you keep away from her,
s a rat-trap if I ever seen
one. You let Curley take the rap. He let himself in for it. Glove fulla
 George said disgustedly.
 the patent medicine houses.
Lennie cried out suddenly
 like this place, George. This ain
no good place. I wanna get outa here.
We gotta keep it till we get a stake. We can
t help it, Lennie. We
 as soon as we can. I don
t like it no better than you do.
He went back to the table and set out a new solitaire hand.
d shove out of here. If we can get
 a few dollars in the poke we
 and go up the American
River and pan gold. We can make maybe a couple of dollars a day there,
and we might hit a pocket.
Lennie leaned eagerly toward him.
 George said shortly.
Shut up now. The guys
From the washroom nearby came the sound of running water and rattling
basins. George studied the cards.
Maybe we oughtta wash up,
t done nothing to get dirty.M
A tall man stood in the doorway. He held a crushed Stetson hat under his
arm while he combed his long, black, damp hair straight back. Like the
others he wore blue jeans and a short denim jacket. When he had finished
combing his hair he moved into the room, and he moved with a majesty
only achieved by royalty and master craftsmen. He was a jerkline
skinner, the prince of the ranch, capable of driving ten, sixteen, even
twenty mules with a single line to the leaders. He was capable of
s butt with a bull whip without touching
the mule. There was a gravity in his manner and a quiet so profound that
all talk stopped when he spoke. His authority was so great that his word
was taken on any subject, be it politics or love. This was Slim, the
jerkline skinner. His hatchet face was ageless. He might have been
thirty-five or fifty. His ear heard more than was said to him, and his
slow speech had overtones not of thought, but of understanding beyond
thought. His hands, large and lean,M
 were as delicate in their action as
those of a temple dancer.
He smoothed out his crushed hat, creased it in the middle and put it on.
He looked kindly at the two in the bunk house.
t hardly see nothing in here. You the new
s what the boss says.
Slim sat down on a box across the table from George. He studied the
solitaire hand that was upside down to hM
Hope you get on my team,
he said. His voice was very gentle.
I gotta pair of punks on my team
t know a barley bag from a blue ball. You guys ever bucked any
t nothing to scream about, but that big
bastard there can put up more grain alone than most pairs can.
Lennie, who had been following the conversation back and forth with his
eyes, smiled complacently at the compliment. Slim looked approvingly at
George for having given tM
he compliment. He leaned over the table and
snapped the corner of a loose card.
You guys travel around together?
His tone was friendly. It invited confidence without demanding it.
We kinda look after each other.
Lennie with his thumb.
t bright. Hell of a good worker, though.
Hell of a nice fella, but he ain
ve knew him for a long
Slim looked through George and beyond him.
t know why. Maybe ever
whole damn world is scared of each other.
s a lot nicer to go around with a guy you know,
A powerful, big-stomached man came into the bunk house. His head still
dripped water from the scrubbing and dousing.
then stopped and stared at George and Lennie.
 said Slim by way of introduction.
m George Milton. This here
 Carlson said again.
chuckled softly at his joke.
s your bitch? I seen she wasn
She slang her pups last night,
em right off. She couldn
Yeah, five. I kept the biggest.
What kinda dogs you think they
Some kinda shepherds, I guess. That
kind I seen around here when she was in heat.
Got five pups, huh. Gonna keep all of
I dunno. Have to keep
em a while so they can drink Lulu
Carlson said thoughtfully,
Well, looka here, Slim. I been thinkin
s is so God damn old he can
t hardly walk. Stinks like
nto the bunk house I can smell him for
two, three days. Why
t you get Candy to shoot his old dog and give him
one of the pups to raise up? I can smell that dog a mile away. Got no
teeth, damn near blind, can
t eat. Candy feeds him milk. He can
George had been staring intently at Slim. Suddenly a triangle began to
ring outside, slowly at first, and then faster and faster until the beat
of it disappeared into one ringing sound. It stopped as suddenly as it
Outside, there was a burst of voices as a group of men went by.
Slim stood up slowly and with dignity.
You guys better come on while
s still something to eat. Won
t be nothing left in a couple of
Carlson stepped back to let Slim precede him, and then the two of them
Lennie was watching George excitedly. George rumpled his cards into a
I heard him, Lennie. I
 Lennie cried excitedly.
t know whether he got a brown and white
t move from his bunk.
You ask him right away, George, so he
Sure. Come on now, get up on your feet.
Lennie rolled off his bunk and stood up, and the two of them started for
the door. Just as they reached it, Curley bounced in.
You seen a girl around here?
 he demanded angrily.
George said coldly.
Bout half an hour ago maybe.
Well what the hell was she doin
George stood still, watching the angry little man. He said insultingly,
Curley seemed really to see George for the first time. His eyes flashed
over George, took in his height, measured his reach, looked at his trim
 he demanded at last.
Curley scowled at him, and turning, hurried oM
m gonna tangle with that
bastard myself. I hate his guts. Jesus Christ! Come on. They won
damn thing left to eat.
They went out the door. The sunshine lay in a thin line under the
window. From a distance there could be heard a rattle of dishes.
After a moment the ancient dog walked lamely in through the open door.
He gazed about with mild, half-blind eyes. He sniffed, and then lay down
and put his head between his paws. Curley M
popped into the doorway again
and stood looking into the room. The dog raised his head, but when
Curley jerked out, the grizzled head sank to the floor again.
                                   3
Although there was evening brightness showing through the windows of the
bunk house, inside it was dusk. Through the open door came the thuds and
occasional clangs of a horseshoe game, and now and then the sound of
voices raised in approval or derision.
Slim and George came into the darkening bunk houM
reached up over the card table and turned on the tin-shaded electric
light. Instantly the table was brilliant with light, and the cone of the
shade threw its brightness straight downward, leaving the corners of the
bunk house still in dusk. Slim sat down on a box and George took his
I would of had to drowned most of
anyways. No need to thank me about that.
t much to you, maybe, but it was a hellM
to him. Jesus Christ, I don
re gonna get him to sleep in
ll want to sleep right out in the barn with
 him from getting right in the box with them pups.
Say, you sure was right about him.
t bright, but I never seen such a worker. He damn near
killed his partner buckin
t nobody can keep up with
him. God awmighty I never seen such a strong guy.
George spoke proudly.
 tell Lennie what to do an
t take no figuring. He can
t think of nothing to do himself, but he
sure can take orders.
There was a clang of horseshoe on iron stake outside and a little cheer
Slim moved back slightly so the light was not on his face.
 him string along together.
s calm invitation to
 George demanded defensively.
rdly none of the guys ever travel together. I hardly
never seen two guys travel together. You know how the hands are, they
just come in and get their bunk and work a month, and then they quit and
go out alone. Never seem to give a damn about nobody. It jus
kinda funny a cuckoo like him and a smart little guy like you travelin
s dumb as hell, but he ain
t so bright neither, or I wouldn
for my fifty and found. If I was bright, if I was even a little bit
d have my own little place, an
 all the work and not getting what comes up outa
 George fell silent. He wanted to talk. Slim neither
encouraged nor discouraged him. He just sat back quiet and receptive.
Him and me was both born in Auburn. I knowed his Aunt Clara. She
took him when he was a baby and raised him up. When his Aunt Clara died,
Lennie just come along with me out workin
. Got kinda used to each other
after a little while.
George looked over at Slim and saw the calm, God-like eyes fastened on
I used to have a hell of a lot of fun with
im. Used to play jokes on
cause he was too dumb to take care of
imself. But he was too dumb even to know he had a joke played on him. I
 me seem God damn smart alongside of him. Why he
 him to walk over a cliff, over he
t so damn much fun after a while. He never got mad about it,
ve beat the hell outa him, and he coulda bust every bone in
s, but he never lifted a finger against me.
s voice was taking on the tone of confession.
me stop that. One day a bunch of guys was standin
amento River. I was feelin
 pretty smart. I turns to Lennie and
t swim a stroke. He damn near
drowned before we could get him. An
 he was so damn nice to me for
 him out. Clean forgot I told him to jump in. Well, I ain
nothing like that no more.
t need no sense to be a nice
fella. Seems to me sometimes it jus
 works the other way around. Take a
real smart guy and he ain
George stacked the scattered cards and began to lay out his solitaire
hand. The shoes thudded on the ground outside. At the windows the light
of the evening still made the window squares bright.
I seen the guys that go around on
the ranches alone. That ain
t have no fun. After a
long time they get mean. They get wantin
 to fight all the time.
Yeah, they get mean,
They get so they don
s a God damn nuisance most of the time,
But you get used to goin
 around with a guy an
I can see Lennie ain
t mean. But he gets in trouble alla time because he
God damn dumb. Like what happened in Weed
 He stopped, stopped in
the middle of turning over a card. He looked alarmed and peered over at
Well, he seen this girl in a red dress. Dumb bastard like he is, he
thing he likes. Just wants to feel it. So he reaches
out to feel this red dress an
 the girl lets out a squawk, and that gets
Lennie all mixed up, and he holds on
s the only thing he can
, this girl squawks and squawks. I was jus
bit off, and I heard all the yellin
, so I comes running, an
s so scared all he can think to do is jus
him over the head with a fence picket to make him let go. He was so
t let go of that dress. And he
s so God damn strong,
s eyes were level and unwinking. He nodded very slowly.
George carefully built his line of solitaire cards.
 tells the law she been raped. The guys in Weed start a
party out to lynch Lennie. So we sit in a irrigation ditch under water
all the rest of that day. Got on
y our heads sticking out from the side
 that night we scrammed outa there.
Slim sat in silence for a moment.
t hurt the girl none, huh?
Hell, no. He just scared her. I
d be scared too if he grabbed me. But
he never hurt her. He jus
 wanted to touch that red drM
to pet them pups all the time.
I can tell a mean guy a mile off.
ll do any damn thing I
Lennie came in through the door. He wore his blue denim coat over his
shoulders like a cape, and he walked hunched way over.
How do you like the pup now?
Lennie said breathlessly,
went directly to his bunk and lay doM
wn and turned his face to the wall
and drew up his knees.
George put down his cards very deliberately.
Lennie twisted his neck and looked over his shoulder.
t bring that pup in here.
What pup, George? I ain
George went quickly to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him
over. He reached down and picked the tiny puppy from where Lennie had
been concealing it against his stoM
Lennie sat up quickly.
 take this pup back to the nest. He
gotta sleep with his mother. You want to kill him? Just born last night
 you take him out of the nest. You take him back or I
not to let you have him.
Lennie held out his hands pleadingly.
t mean no harm, George. Honest I didn
e handed the pup to him.
Awright. You get him back there quick,
 you take him out no more. You
ll kill him, the first thing you
 Lennie fairly scuttled out of the room.
Slim had not moved. His calm eyes followed Lennie out the door.
 like a kid. There ain
t no more harm in him than a kid
s so strong. I bet he won
t come in here to sleep
d sleep right alongsiM
de that box in the barn. Well
It was almost dark outside now. Old Candy, the swamper, came in and went
to his bunk, and behind him struggled his old dog.
t neither of you play horseshoes?
Either you guys got a slug of whisky? I gotta gut ache.
d drink it myself if I had, an
Them God damn turnips give it to me.
I knowed they was going to before I ever eat
The thick-bodied Carlson came in out of the darkening yard. He walked to
the other end of the bunk house and turned on the second shaded light.
Jesus, how that nigger can pitch
t give nobody else a chance to
 He stopped and sniffed the air, and still sniffing, looked down
God awmighty, that dog stinks. Get him outa here,
t know nothing that stinks as bad as an old dog. You gotta
Candy rolled to the edge of his bunk. He reached over and patted the
ancient dog, and he apologized,
I been around him so much I never
notice how he stinks.
t stand him in here,
around even after he
lked over with his heavy-legged
stride and looked down at the dog.
stiff with rheumatism. He ain
t no good to you, Candy. An
good to himself. Why
t you shoot him, Candy?
The old man squirmed uncomfortably.
hell! I had him so long. Had
him since he was a pup, I herded sheep with him.
t think it to look at him now, but he was the best damn sheep dog
guy in Weed that had an Airedale could herd
sheep. Learned it from the other dogs.
Carlson was not to be put off.
Look, Candy. This ol
hisself all the time. If you was to take him out and shoot him right in
the back of the head
 he leaned over and pointed,
d never know what hit him.
Candy looked about unhappily.
And he stinks to beat hell.
ll shoot him for you. Then it won
Candy threw his legs off his bunk. He scratched the white stubble
whiskers on his cheek nervously.
I had him from a pup.
s bitch got a litter right now. I bet Slim would give you
one of them pups to raise up, wouldn
 been studying the old dog with his calm eyes.
You can have a pup if you want to.
 He seemed to shake himself
s right, Candy. That dog ain
himself. I wisht somebody
d shoot me if I got old an
Candy looked helplessly at him, for Slim
s opinions were law.
d shoot him, he wouldn
the gun right there.
 He pointed with his toe.
Right back of the head.
Candy looked for help from face to face. It was quite dark outside by
now. A young laboring man came in. His sloping shoulders were bent
forward and he walked heavily on his heels, as though he carried the
invisible grain bag. He went to his bunk and put his hat on his shelf.
Then he picked a pulp magazine from his shelf and brought it to the
light over the table.
Did I show you this, Slim?
The young man turned to the back of the magazine, put it down on the
table and pointed with his finger.
Right there, read that.
 said the young man.
I read your mag for six years and I
think it is the best on the market. I like stories by Peter Rand. I
think he is a whing-ding. Give us more like the Dark Rider. I don
write many letters. Just thought I would tell yoM
u I think your mag is
s worth I ever spent.
Slim looked up questioningly.
What you want me to read that for?
Go on. Read the name at the bottom.
Yours for success, William Tenner.
 He glanced up at Whit
What you want me to read that for?
Whit closed the magazine impressively.
t you remember Bill Tenner?
Worked here about three months ago?
Slim thought. . . .
s the guy wrote this letter?
I know it. Bill and me was in here one day. Bill had one of them books
that just come. He was lookin
 in it and he says,
Wonder if they put it in the book!
s just what they done.
Got it right in the book.
rge held out his hand for the magazine.
Whit found the place again, but he did not surrender his hold on it. He
pointed out the letter with his forefinger. And then he went to his box
shelf and laid the magazine carefully in.
I wonder if Bill seen it,
Bill and me worked in that patch of field peas. Run cultivators,
both of us. Bill was a hell of a nice fella.
During the conversation Carlson had refused to be drawn in. He continued
to look down at the old dogM
. Candy watched him uneasily. At last Carlson
If you want me to, I
ll put the old devil out of his misery right
now and get it over with. Ain
t nothing left for him. Can
t even walk without hurtin
Candy said hopefully,
t. Got a Luger. It won
t hurt him none at all.
s wait till tomorra.
t see no reason for it,
 said Carlson. He went to his bunk,
led his bag from underneath it and took out a Luger pistol.
t sleep with him stinkin
 He put the pistol in his hip pocket.
Candy looked a long time at Slim to try to find some reversal. And Slim
gave him none. At last Candy said softly and hopelessly,
 He did not look down at the dog at all. He lay back on his bunk
and crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
From his pocket Carlson tooM
k a little leather thong. He stooped over and
tied it around the old dog
s neck. All the men except Candy watched him.
Come boy. Come on, boy,
 he said gently. And he said apologetically to
 Candy did not move nor answer him. He
twitched the thong.
 The old dog got slowly and stiffly
to his feet and followed the gently pulling leash.
You know what to do.
Oh, sure! I get you.
 He led the dog out into the darkness.
George followed to the door and shut the door and set the latch gently
in its place. Candy lay rigidly on his bed staring at the ceiling.
One of my lead mules got a bad hoof. Got to get some
 His voice trailed off. It was silent outside. Carlson
footsteps died away. The silence came into the room. And the silence
here in the barn with his
t want to come in here no more now he
Candy, you can have any one of them pups you want.
Candy did not answer. The silence fell on the room again. It came out of
the night and invaded the room. George said,
Anybody like to play a
ll play out a few with you,
They took places opposite each other at the table under the light, but
George did not shuffle the cards. He rippled the edge of tM
nervously, and the little snapping noise drew the eyes of all the men in
the room, so that he stopped doing it. The silence fell on the room
again. A minute passed, and another minute. Candy lay still, staring at
the ceiling. Slim gazed at him for a moment and then looked down at his
hands; he subdued one hand with the other, and held it down. There came
a little gnawing sound from under the floor and all the men looked down
toward it gratefully. Only Candy continued to stare at the ceiling.
unds like there was a rat under there,
 him so long? Lay out some cards,
t going to get no euchre played this way.
George brought the cards together tightly and studied the backs of them.
The silence was in the room again.
A shot sounded in the distance. The men looked quickly at the old man.
Every head turned toward him.
For a moment he continued to stare at the ceilingM
. Then he rolled slowly
over and faced the wall and lay silent.
George shuffled the cards noisily and dealt them. Whit drew a scoring
board to him and set the pegs to start. Whit said,
really come here to work.
Well, ya come on a Friday. You got two days to work till
t see how you figure,
Whit laughed again.
You do if you been around these big ranches much.
Guy that wants to look M
over a ranch comes in Sat
day afternoon. He gets
 three meals on Sunday, and he can quit Monday
 after breakfast without turning his hand. But you come to work
Friday noon. You got to put in a day an
 a half no matter how you
George looked at him levelly.
re gonna stick aroun
s gonna roll up a stake.
The door opened quietly and the stable buck put in his head; a lean
negro head, lined with pain, tM
Slim took his eyes from old Candy.
Huh? Oh! Hello, Crooks. What
You told me to warm up tar for that mule
s foot. I got it warm.
ll come right out an
I can do it if you want, Mr. Slim.
ll come do it myself.
 around your pups out in the barn.
 I give him one of them pups.
ll come along with you now.
If that crazy bastard
 around too much, jus
Slim followed the stable buck out of the room.
George dealt and Whit picked up his cards and examined them.
t seen that much of her,
Whit laid down his cards impressively.
Well, stick around an
ll see plenty. She ain
 nothing. I never seen
nobody like her. She got the eye goin
 all the time on everybody. I bet
she even gives the stable buck the eye. I don
t know what the hell she
Been any trouble since she got here?
It was obvious that Whit was not interested in his cards. He laid his
hand down and George scooped it in. George laid out his deliberate
seven cards, and six on top, and five on top of those.
I see what you mean. No, they ain
s got yella-jackets in his drawers, but that
time the guys is around she shows up. She
t keep away from guys. An
s pants is just crawlin
with ants, but they ain
t nothing come of it yet.
s gonna make a mess. They
s gonna be a bad mess about
s a jail bait all set on the trigger. That Curley got his work
cut out for him. Ranch with a bunch of guys on it ain
girl, specially like her.
If you got idears, you ought ta come in town M
 the usual thing. We go in to old Susy
s place. Hell of a nice
 jokes. Like she says when we
come up on the front porch las
day night. Susy opens the door and
then she yells over her shoulder,
Get yor coats on, girls, here comes
 She never talks dirty, neither. Got five girls there.
can get a shot for two bits. Susy got nice chairs
to set in, too. If a guy don
t want a flop, why he can just set in the
chairs and have a couple or three shots and pass the time of day and
t give a damn. She ain
 guys through and kickin
Might go in and look the joint over,
Sure. Come along. It
s a hell of a lot of fun
the time. Like she says one time, she says,
they got a rag rug on the floor an
 a kewpie doll lamp on the phonograph
re running a parlor house.
I know what you boys want,
t no water in my whisky,
If any you guys wanta look at a kewpie doll lamp an
 burned, why you know where to go.
s guys around here walkinM
cause they like to look at
Clara runs the other house, huh?
t never go there. Clara gets three bucks a
crack and thirty-five cents a shot, and she don
t crack no jokes. But
s place is clean and she got nice chairs. Don
t let no goo-goos in,
set and have a shot, but I ain
Well, a guy got to have some fun sometime,
The door opened and Lennie and Carlson came in together. Lennie crept to
his bunk and sat down, trying not to attract attention. Carlson reached
under his bunk and brought out his bag. He didn
t look at old Candy, who
still faced the wall. Carlson found a little cleaning rod in the bag and
a can of oil. He laid them on his bed and then brought out the pistol,
took out the magazine and snapped the loaded shell from the chamber.
n he fell to cleaning the barrel with the little rod. When the
ejector snapped, Candy turned over and looked for a moment at the gun
before he turned back to the wall again.
Carlson said casually,
Carlson squinted down the barrel of his gun.
I seen him going round and round outside.
Whit said sarcastically,
He spends half his time lookin
the rest of the time she
Curley burst into the room excitedly.
Any you guys seen my wife?
Curley looked threateningly about the room.
Went out in the barn,
He was gonna put some tar on a
s shoulders dropped and squared.
Curley jumped out the door and banged it after him.
t start for Slim. An
damn handy. Got in the finals for the Golden Gloves. He got newspaper
 the same, he better leave
Slim alone. Nobody don
t know what Slim can do.
s with his wife, don
Slim is. But I like to see the fuss if M
it comes off. Come on, le
t want to get mixed up in
nothing. Lennie and me got to make a stake.
Carlson finished the cleaning of the gun and put it in the bag and
pushed the bag under his bunk.
ll go out and look her over,
he said. Old Candy lay still, and Lennie, from his bunk, watched George
When Whit and Carlson were gone and the door closed after them, George
What you got on your miM
t done nothing, George. Slim says I better not pet them pups so
much for a while. Slim says it ain
t good for them; so I come right in.
I been good, George.
I coulda told you that,
 had mine in my lap pettin
Did you see Slim out in the barn?
 me I better not pet that pup no more.
Did you see that girl?
Yeah. Did she come in the barn?
No. Anyways I never seen her.
You never seen Slim talkin
I guess them guys ain
t gonna see no fight. If
, Lennie, you keep out of it.
 said Lennie. He got up from his bunk and sat
down at the table, across from George. Almost automatically George
shuffled the cards and laid out his solitaire hand. He used a
iberate, thoughtful, slowness.
Lennie reached for a face card and studied it, then turned it upside
down and studied it.
 in the barn when you seen him?
Sure. You seen him in the barn, an
 you not to pet the pups so
Oh, yeah. He had a can a
 a paint brush. I don
You sure that girl didn
t come in like she come in here today?
You give me a good whore house every time,
 get drunk and get ever
thing outa his system all at
 no messes. And he knows how much it
s gonna set him back.
These here jail baits is just set on the trigger of the hoosegow.
Lennie followed his words admiringly, and moved his lips a little to
keep up. George continueM
You remember Andy Cushman, Lennie? Went to
The one that his old lady used to make hot cakes for the kids?
s the one. You can remember anything if there
 George looked carefully at the solitaire hand. He put an ace
up on his scoring rack and piled a two, three and four of diamonds on
s in San Quentin right now on account of a tart,
Lennie drummed on the table with his fingers.
s it gonna be till we get that little place an
on the fatta the lan
We gotta get a big stake together. I know a
little place we can get cheap, but they ain
Old Candy turned slowly over. His eyes were wide open. He watched George
Tell about that place, George.
little shack on it, an
 a chicken run. Got a kitchen, orchard, cherries,
cots, nuts, got a few berries. They
alfalfa and plenty water to flood it. They
No place for rabbits now, but I could easy build a few hutches and you
could feed alfalfa to the rabbits.
Damn right, I could,
You God damn right I M
s hands stopped working with the cards. His voice was growing
 we could have a few pigs. I could build a smoke house like
 when we kill a pig we can smoke the bacon and
the hams, and make sausage an
 when the salmon run up
river we could catch a hundred of
could have them for breakfast. They ain
t nothing so nice as smoked
salmon. When the fruit come in we could can it
d kill a chicken or a rabbit. Maybe we
have a cow or a goat, and the cream is so God damn thick you got to cut
it with a knife and take it out with a spoon.
Lennie watched him with wide eyes, and old Candy watched him too. Lennie
We could live offa the fatta the lan
s a vegetables in the garden, and if we
want a little whisky we can sell a few eggs or something, or some milk.
d belong there. There wouldn
 round the country and gettin
 fed by a Jap cook. No, sir, we
have our own place where we belonged and not sleep in no bunk house.
Tell about the house, George,
d have a little house an
 a room to ourself. Little fat iron
d have to work too hard. Maybe six, seven hours a day. We
ve to buck no barley eleven hours a day. An
d be there to take the crop up. We
d know what come of our
 Lennie said eagerly.
d go out in the alfalfa patch an
fill up the sack and bring it in an
 put it in the rabbit cages.
the way they do. I seen
them does would throw a
d have plenty rabbits to eat an
few pigeons to go flyin
mill like they done when I was a
 He looked raptly at the wall over Lennie
 nobody could can us. If we don
t like a guy we can say,
d have an extra bunk, an
 by God he would. We
d have a setter dog and a couple stripe
cats, but you gotta watch out them cats don
t get the little rabbits.
Lennie breathed hard.
em try to get the rabbits. I
break their God damn necks. I
subsided, grumbling to himself, threatening the future cats which might
dare to disturb the future rabbits.
George sat entranced with his own picture.
hen Candy spoke they both jumped as though they had been caught doing
something reprehensible. Candy said,
George was on guard immediately.
t need to tell me where it
s at. Might be any place.
t find it in a hundred
Candy went on excitedly,
How much they want for a place like that?
George watched him suspicM
I could get it for six hundred
 people that owns it is flat bust an
s it to you? You got nothing to do with us.
y one hand. I lost my hand right
here on this ranch. That
s why they give me a job swampin
give me two hunderd an
fifty more saved up right in the bank, right now. Tha
got fifty more comin
 the end a the month. Tell you what
leaned forward eagerly.
pose I went in with you guys. Tha
t much good, but I could cook
and tend the chickens and hoe the garden some. How
George half-closed his eyes.
I gotta think about that. We was always
gonna do it by ourselves.
Candy interrupted him,
 leave my share to you guys
in case I kick off,
no relatives nor nothing. You
guys got any money? Maybe we could do her right now?
George spat on the floor disgustedly.
We got ten bucks between us.
Then he said thoughtfully,
 Lennie work a month an
ll have a hunderd bucks. That
bet we could swing her for that. Then you an
 Lennie could go get her
 you could sell eggs
 a silence. They looked at one another, amazed. This thing
they had never really believed in was coming true. George said
Jesus Christ! I bet we could swing her.
I bet we could swing her,
 he repeated softly.
Candy sat on the edge of his bunk. He scratched the stump of his wrist
I got hurt four years ago,
t swamp out no bunk houses they
the county. Maybe ifM
 I give you guys my money, you
ll let me hoe in the
garden even after I ain
chicken stuff like that. But I
ll be on our own place, an
to work on our own place.
 He said miserably,
You seen what they done
to my dog tonight? They says he wasn
t no good to himself nor nobody
else. When they can me here I wisht somebody
d shoot me. But they won
do nothing like that. I won
t have no place to go, an
ll have thirty dollars more comin
, time you guys is ready
ll fix up that little old
 He sat down again. They all sat still,
all bemused by the beauty of the thing, each mind was popped into the
future when this lovely thing should come about.
George said wonderingly,
pose they was a carnival or a circus come to
town, or a ball game, or any damn thing.
 Old Candy nodded in
eciation of the idea.
t ask nobody if we could. Jus
 milk the cow and sling some grain to the chickens an
 put some grass to the rabbits,
forget to feed them. When we gon
In one month. Right squack in one month. Know what I
ta write to them old people that owns the place thaM
ll send a hunderd dollars to bind her.
They got a good stove there?
Sure, got a nice stove, burns coal or wood.
m gonna take my pup,
I bet by Christ he likes it
Voices were approaching from outside. George said quickly,
nobody about it. Jus
 nobody else. They li
t make no stake. Jus
 go on like we was gonna buck barlM
rest of our lives, then all of a sudden some day we
Lennie and Candy nodded, and they were grinning with delight.
 Lennie said to himself.
I ought to of shot that dog myself, George. I shouldn
no stranger shoot my dog.
The door opened. Slim came in, followed by Curley and Carlson and Whit.
s hands were black with tar and he was scowling. Curley hungM
t mean nothing, Slim. I just ast you.
Well, you been askin
sick of it. If you can
t look after your own God damn wife, what you
expect me to do about it? You lay offa me.
 thought you might of saw her.
t you tell her to stay the hell home where she belongs?
let her hang around bunk houses and pretty soon you
pin on your hands and you won
t be able to do nothing
Curley whirled on Carlson.
You keep outta this les
You tried to throw a
t make it stick. Slim throwed a scare
re yella as a frog belly. I don
welter in the country. You come for me, an
ick your God damn head
Candy joined the attack with joy.
Glove fulla vaseline,
disgustedly. Curley glared at him. His eyes slipped on past and lighted
on Lennie; and Lennie was still smiling with delight at the memory of
Curley stepped over to Lennie like a terrier.
Lennie looked blankly at him.
Come on, ya big bastard. Get up on your
feet. No big son-of-a-bitch is gonna laugh at meM
Lennie looked helplessly at George, and then he got up and tried to
retreat. Curley was balanced and poised. He slashed at Lennie with his
left, and then smashed down his nose with a right. Lennie gave a cry of
terror. Blood welled from his nose.
 He backed until he was against the wall, and Curley
followed, slugging him in the face. Lennie
s hands remained at his
sides; he was too frightened to defend himseM
George was on his feet yelling,
Get him, Lennie. Don
Lennie covered his face with his huge paws and bleated with terror. He
 Then Curley attacked his stomach and cut
The dirty little rat,
George put out his hand and grabbed Slim.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled,
Lennie took his hands M
away from his face and looked about for George,
and Curley slashed at his eyes. The big face was covered with blood.
George yelled again,
s fist was swinging when Lennie reached for it. The next minute
Curley was flopping like a fish on a line, and his closed fist was lost
s big hand. George ran down the room.
Leggo of him, Lennie.
But Lennie watched in terror the flopping little man whom he held. Blood
s face, one of his eyes waM
s cut and closed. George
slapped him in the face again and again, and still Lennie held on to the
closed fist. Curley was white and shrunken by now, and his struggling
had become weak. He stood crying, his fist lost in Lennie
George shouted over and over,
Leggo his hand, Lennie. Leggo. Slim, come
help me while the guy got any hand left.
Suddenly Lennie let go his hold. He crouched cowering against the wall.
Curley sat down on the floor,M
 looking in wonder at his crushed hand.
Slim and Carlson bent over him. Then Slim straightened up and regarded
Lennie with horror.
We got to get him in to a doctor,
Carlson, you get the candy wagon hitched up. We
 Carlson hurried out. Slim turned to
the whimpering Lennie.
Slim hurried out, and in a moment returned with a tin cup of water. He
Slim, will we get canned now? We need the stake. Will
s old man can us now?
Slim smiled wryly. He knelt down beside Curley.
You got your senses in
hand enough to listen?
 he asked. Curley nodded.
I think you got your hanM
 caught in a machine. If you
t tell nobody what happened, we ain
t going to. But you jus
 try to get this guy canned and we
 said Curley. He avoided looking at Lennie.
Buggy wheels sounded outside. Slim helped Curley up.
s gonna take you to a doctor.
 He helped Curley out the door.
The sound of wheels drew away. In a moment Slim came back into the bunk
house. He looked atM
 Lennie, still crouched fearfully against the wall.
Lennie stuck out his hands.
Christ awmighty, I hate to have you mad at me,
what to do. I told you nobody ought never to fight him. No, I guess it
Candy nodded solemnly.
morning when Curley first lit intil your fren
fool with Lennie if he knows what
George turned to Lennie.
to be scairt no more. You done jus
 you to. Maybe you better
go in the wash room an
 clean up your face. You look like hell.
Lennie smiled with his bruised mouth.
said. He walked toward the door, but just before he came to it, he
I can still tend the rabbits, George?
t done nothing wrong.
t mean no harm, George.
Well, get the hell out and wash your face.
                                   4
Crooks, the negro stable buck, had his bunk in the harness room; a
little shed that leaned off the wall of the barn. On one side of the
little room there was a square four-paned window, and on the other, a
narrow plank door leading into the barn. CrooM
 bunk was a long box
filled with straw, on which his blankets were flung. On the wall by the
window there were pegs on which hung broken harness in process of being
mended; strips of new leather; and under the window itself a little
bench for leather-working tools, curved knives and needles and balls of
linen thread, and a small hand riveter. On pegs were also pieces of
harness, a split collar with the horsehair stuffing sticking out, a
broken hame, and a trace chain with its leather covering split. CroM
had his apple box over his bunk, and in it a range of medicine bottles,
both for himself and for the horses. There were cans of saddle soap and
a drippy can of tar with its paint brush sticking over the edge. And
scattered about the floor were a number of personal possessions; for,
being alone, Crooks could leave his things about, and being a stable
buck and a cripple, he was more permanent than the other men, and he had
accumulated more possessions than he could carry on his back.
Crooks possessed seM
veral pairs of shoes, a pair of rubber boots, a big
alarm clock and a single-barreled shotgun. And he had books, too; a
tattered dictionary and a mauled copy of the California civil code for
1905. There were battered magazines and a few dirty books on a special
shelf over his bunk. A pair of large gold-rimmed spectacles hung from a
nail on the wall above his bed.
This room was swept and fairly neat, for Crooks was a proud, aloof man.
He kept his distance and demanded that other people keep theirs. His
y was bent over to the left by his crooked spine, and his eyes lay
deep in his head, and because of their depth seemed to glitter with
intensity. His lean face was lined with deep black wrinkles, and he had
thin, pain-tightened lips which were lighter than his face.
It was Saturday night. Through the open door that led into the barn came
the sound of moving horses, of feet stirring, of teeth champing on hay,
of the rattle of halter chains. In the stable buck
electric globe threw a meager yM
Crooks sat on his bunk. His shirt was out of his jeans in back. In one
hand he held a bottle of liniment, and with the other he rubbed his
spine. Now and then he poured a few drops of the liniment into his
pink-palmed hand and reached up under his shirt to rub again. He flexed
his muscles against his back and shivered.
Noiselessly Lennie appeared in the open doorway and stood there looking
in, his big shoulders nearly filling the opening. For a moment Crooks
did not see him, but on raising M
his eyes he stiffened and a scowl came
on his face. His hand came out from under his shirt.
Lennie smiled helplessly in an attempt to make friends.
Crooks said sharply,
You got no right to come in my room. This here
my room. Nobody got any right in here but me.
Lennie gulped and his smile grew more fawning.
Just come to look at my puppy. And I seen your light,
Well, I got a right to have a light. You go on get outta my room. I
t wanted in the bunk house, and you ain
t wanted in my room.
m black. They play cards in there, but I can
m black. They say I stink. Well, I tell you, you all of you stink to
Lennie flapped his big hands helplessly.
body went into town,
body. George says I gotta stay here an
not get in no trouble. I seen your light.
Well, what do you wanM
I seen your light. I thought I could jus
Crooks stared at Lennie, and he reached behind him and took down the
spectacles and adjusted them over his pink ears and stared again.
 in the barn anyway,
s no call for a bucker to come into the barn at
t no skinner. You ain
t got nothing to do with the horses.
Well, go see your pup, then. Don
t come in a place where you
Lennie lost his smile. He advanced a step into the room, then remembered
and backed to the door again.
em a little. Slim says I
Well, you been takin
em out of the nest all the time. I
wonder the old lady don
t care. She lets me.
 Lennie had moved into the room again.
s disarming smile defeated him.
t get out and leave me
alone, you might as well set down.
 His tone was a little more friendly.
All the boys gone into town, huh?
All but old Candy. He just sets in the bunk house sharpening his pencil
and sharpening and figuring.
Crooks adjusted his glasses.
s Candy figuring about?
Lennie almost shouted,
re crazy as a wedge. What rabbits you
re gonna get, and I get to tend
t blame the guy you travel with for
Lennie said quietly.
re gonna do it. Gonna get a
 live on the fatta the lan
Crooks settled himself more comfortably on his bunk.
Set down on the nail keg.
Lennie hunched down on the little barrel.
Crooks put his dark chin into his pink palm.
Sometimes he talks, and you don
t know what the hell
with his deep eyes.
Yeah . . . sometimes.
t know what the hell it
Yeah . . . sometimes. But . . . not always.
Crooks leaned forward over the edge of the bunk.
I was born right here in California. My old man had a
bout ten acres. The white kids come to play at our
 sometimes I went to play with them, and some of them waM
t like that. I never knew till long later
t like that. But I know now.
 He hesitated, and when he
spoke again his voice was softer.
t another colored family
for miles around. And now there ain
t a colored man on this ranch an
 one family in Soledad.
s just a nigger sayin
How long you think it
ll be before them pups will be old
Crooks laughed again.
A guy can talk to you an
. Couple of weeks an
ll be all right. George knows
t understand nothing.
leaned forward excitedly.
This is just a nigger talkin
busted-back nigger. So it don
t mean nothing, see? You couldn
it anyways. I seen it over an
 to another guy and it
t make no difference if he don
difference, no difference.
 His excitement had increased until he
pounded his knee with his hand.
George can tell you screwy things, and
s just the talking. It
His voice grew soft and persuasive.
pose he took a powder and just ain
s attention came gradually to what had been said.
pose George went into town tonight and you never heard of him
 Crooks pressed forward some kind of private victory.
t do nothing like that. I
been with George a long time. He
ll come back tonight
was too much for him.
t you think he will?
e lighted with pleasure in his torture.
 he observed calmly.
s say he wants to come back
pose he gets killed or hurt so he can
Lennie struggled to understand.
t do nothing like that,
George is careful. He won
ed with apprehension.
 know. Say, what you
Crooks bored in on him.
Want me ta tell ya what
ya to the booby hatch. They
ll tie ya up with a collar, like a dog.
s eyes centered and grew quiet, and mad. He stood up and
walked dangerously toward Crooks.
Crooks saw the danger as it approached him. He edged back on his bunk to
ll be back all right.
Lennie stood over him.
suppose no hurt to George.
Crooks removed his glasses and wiped his eyes with his fingers.
Lennie growled back to his seat on the nail keg.
talk no hurt to George,
Crooks said gently,
e you can see now. You got George. You _know_
t go into the bunk house and play rummy
cause you was black.
pose you had to sit out here an
you could play horseshoes till it got dark, but then you got to read
t no good. A guy needs somebody
A guy goes nuts if he ain
difference who the guy isM
s with you. I tell ya,
I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an
George gonna come back,
 Lennie reassured himself in a frightened
Maybe George come back already. Maybe I better go see.
t mean to scare you. He
ll come back. I was talkin
about myself. A guy sets alone out here at night, maybe readin
 or stuff like that. Sometimes he gets thinkin
nothing to tell him what
t so. Maybe if he sees
s right or not. He can
some other guy and ast him if he sees it too. He can
nothing to measure by. I seen things out here. I wasn
know if I was asleep. If some guy was with me, he could tell me I was
 then it would be all right. But I jus
was looking across the room now, looking toward the window.
Lennie said miserably,
t go away and leave me. I know George
The stable buck went on dreamily,
I remember when I was a little kid on
s chicken ranch. Had two brothers. They was always near me,
always there. Used to sleep right in the same room, right in the same
all three. Had a strawberry patch. Had an alfalfa patch. Used to
turn the chickens out in the alfalfa on a sunny morning. My brothers
set on a fence rail an
white chickens they was.
s interest came around to what was being said.
re gonna have alfalfa for the rabbits.
re gonna have rabbits an
We are too. You ast George.
 Crooks was scornful.
I seen hunderds of men come by on
 on the ranches, with their bindles on their back an
same damn thing in their heads. Hunderds of them. They come, an
s got a little piece of land
 never a God damn one of
em ever gets it. Just like
body wants a little piece of lan
. I read plenty of books
out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land. It
just in their head. They
re all the time talkin
 He paused and looked toward the open door, for the
horses were moving restlessly and the halter chains clinked. A horse
comes in sometimes two, three times a night. Slim
s a real skinner. He
looks out for his team.
 He pulled himself painfully upright and moved
Slim went in town. Say, you seen Lennie?
Ya mean the big guy?
Yeah. Seen him around any place?
 Crooks said shortly. He went back to his bunk and lay
Candy stood in the doorway scratchinM
g his bald wrist and looking blindly
into the lighted room. He made no attempt to enter.
Lennie. I been figuring out about them rabbits.
Crooks said irritably,
You can come in if you want.
Candy seemed embarrassed.
Course, if ya want me to.
 in, you might just as well.
difficult for Crooks to conceal his pleasure with anger.
Candy came in, but he was still embarrassed.
You got a nice cozy little
 he said to Crooks.
Must be nice to have a room all to
And a manure pile under the window. Sure, it
You said about them rabbits.
Candy leaned against the wall beside the broken collar while he
scratched the wrist stump.
I been here a long time,
Crooks been here a long time. This
s the first time I ever been in his
Crooks said darkly,
much. Nobody been here but Slim. Slim an
Candy quickly changed the subject.
s as good a skinner as I ever
Lennie leaned toward the old swamper.
I got it figured out. We can make some money on them
rabbits if we go about it right.
George says I get to tend
Crooks interrupted brutally.
talk about it a hell of a lot, but you won
swamper here till they take you out in a box. Hell, I seen too many
 be on the road in two, three weeks. Seems
 guy got land in his head.
Candy rubbed his cheek angrily.
You God damn right we
George says we are. We got the money right now.
s George now? In town in a whore house.
. Jesus, I seen it happen too many times.
I seen too many guys with land in their head. They never get none under
Sure they all want it. Everybody wants a little bit of
 that was his. Somethin
t nobody throw him off of it. I never had none. I
planted crops for damn near ever
body in this state, but they wasn
crops, and when I harvested
gonna do it now, and don
t make no mistake about that. George ain
the money in town. That money
s in the bank. Me an
We gonna have a room to ourself. Were gonna have a dog an
re gonna have green corn an
 maybe a cow or a goat.
stopped, overwhelmed with his picture.
You say you got the money?
Damn right. We got most of it. Just a little bit more to get. Have it
all in one month. George got theM
 land all picked out, too.
Crooks reached around and explored his spine with his hand.
seen a guy really do it,
I seen guys nearly crazy with
loneliness for land, but ever
 time a whore house or a blackjack game
. . . If you . . . guys would want a
hand to work for nothing
just his keep, why I
t work like a son-of-a-bitch if I want to.
Any you boys seen Curley?
ey swung their heads toward the door. Looking in was Curley
Her face was heavily made up. Her lips were slightly parted. She
breathed strongly, as though she had been running.
She stood still in the doorway, smiling a little at them, rubbing the
nails of one hand with the thumb and forefinger of the other. And her
eyes traveled from one face to another.
They left all the weak ones
Curley, I know where they all went.
Lennie watched her, fascinated; but Candy and Crooks were scowling down
away from her eyes. Candy said,
Then if you know, why you want to ast
us where Curley is at?
She regarded them amusedly.
s alone, I get along fine with him. But just let two of the
guys get together an
her fingers and put her hands on her hips.
re all scared of each
s scared the rest is goin
After a pause Crooks said,
Maybe you better go along to your own house
t giving you no trouble. Think I don
 once in a while? Think I like to stick in that house alla
Candy laid the stump of his wrist on his knee and rubbed it gently with
his hand. He said accusingly,
 with other guys, causin
The girl flared up.
. You all seen him. Swell guy,
t he? Spends all his time sayin
s gonna do to guys he don
t like nobody. Think I
m gonna stay in that two-by-four
house and listen how Curley
s gonna lead with his left twict, and then
used and her face lost its sullenness and
what happened to Curley
There was an embarrassed silence. Candy stole a look at Lennie. Then he
Why . . . Curley . . . he got his han
 caught in a machine,
She watched for a moment, and then she laughed.
Baloney! What you think
 me? Curley started som
 finish. Caught in a
baloney! Why, he ain
t give nobody the good ol
 bust. Who bust him?
Candy repeated sullenly,
Got it caught in a machine.
 she said contemptuously.
Whatta I care? You bindle bums think you
re so damn good. Whatta ya
think I am, a kid? I tell ya I could of went with shows. Not jus
 me he could put me in pitchers. . . .
breathless with indignation.
bunch of bindle stiffs
 a dum-dum and a lousy ol
 it because they ain
Lennie watched her, his mouth half open. Crooks had retired into the
terrible protective dignity of the negro. But a change came over old
Candy. He stood up suddenly and knocked his nail keg over backward.
t wanted here. We told you you
 I tell ya, you got fM
loozy idears about what us guys amounts
t got sense enough in that chicken head to even see that we
pose you get us canned. S
pose you do. You think we
 look for another lousy two-bit job like this. You
t know that we got our own ranch to go to, an
t got to stay here. We gotta house and chickens an
a place a hunderd time prettier than this. An
what we got. Maybe theM
re was a time when we was scared of gettin
t no more. We got our own lan
s wife laughed at him.
guys. If you had two bits in the worl
shots of corn with it and suckin
 the bottom of the glass. I know you
s face had grown redder and redder, but before she was done
speaking, he had control of himself. He was the master of tM
Maybe you just better go along an
roll your hoop. We ain
t got nothing to say to you at all. We know what
t care whether you know it or not. So maybe you
 scatter along now,
cause Curley maybe ain
wife out in the barn with us
She looked from one face to another, and they were all closed against
her. And she looked longest at Lennie, until he dropped his eyes in
rassment. Suddenly she said,
d you get them bruises on your
Lennie looked up guiltily.
Lennie looked to Candy for help, and then he looked at his lap again.
 caught in a machine,
ll talk to you later. I like
You let this guy alone. Don
t you do no messing aroun
m gonna tell George what you says. George won
The little guy you come with?
Lennie smiled happily.
gonna let me tend the rabbits.
s all you want, I might get a couple rabbits myself.
Crooks stood up from his bunk and faced her.
You got no rights comin
rights messing around in here at all. Now you jus
m gonna ast the boss not to ever let you come in
She turned on him in scorn.
can do to you if you open your trap?
Crooks stared hopelessly at her, and then he sat down on his bunk and
You know what I could do?
Crooks seemed to grow smaller, and he pressed himself against the wall.
Well, you keep your place then, NigM
ger. I could get you strung up on a
Crooks had reduced himself to nothing. There was no personality, no
nothing to arouse either like or dislike. He said,
and his voice was toneless.
For a moment she stood over him as though waiting for him to move so
that she could whip at him again; but Crooks sat perfectly still, his
eyes averted, everything that might be hurt drawn in. She turned at last
Old Candy was watching her,M
If you was to do that, we
d tell about you framin
I wisht George was here. I wisht George was here.
Candy stepped over to him.
heard the guys comin
 bunk house right now, I
 He turned to Curley
You better go home now,
If you go right now, we won
t tell Curley you was here.
She appraised him coolly.
t sure you heard nothing.
Better not take no chances,
She turned to Lennie.
m glad you bust up Curley a little bit. He got
 to him. Sometimes I
d like to bust him myself.
nd disappeared into the dark barn. And while she went
through the barn, the halter chains rattled, and some horses snorted and
some stamped their feet.
Crooks seemed to come slowly out of the layers of protection he had put
Was that the truth what you said about the guys come back?
 Candy said, and he went on,
Jesus Christ, Curley
wife can move quiet. I guess she had a lot of practice, tM
Crooks avoided the whole subject now.
Maybe you guys better go,
t sure I want you in here no more. A colored man got to
have some rights even if he don
t ought to of said that to you.
 Crooks said dully.
made me forget. What she says is true.
The horses snorted out in the barn and the chains rang and a voice
Lennie. Oh, Lennie. YouM
 Lennie cried. And he answered,
In a second George stood framed in the door, and he looked
disapprovingly about.
em, but they come in anyways.
Now Candy aroused himself.
Oh, George! I been fiM
got it doped out how we can even make some money on them rabbits.
 you not to tell nobody about that.
Candy was crestfallen.
t tell nobody but Crooks.
Well you guys get outta here. Jesus, seems like I can
Candy and Lennie stood up and went toward the door. Crooks called,
Member what I said about hoein
 want to go no place like that.
Well, O.K., if you feel like that. Goodnight.
The three men went out of the door. As they went through the barn the
horses snorted and the halter chains rattled.
Crooks sat on his bunk and looked at the door for a moment, and then he
reached for the liniment bottle. He pulled out his shirt in back, poured
a little liniment in his piM
nk palm and, reaching around, he fell slowly
to rubbing his back.
                                   5
One end of the great barn was piled high with new hay and over the pile
hung the four-taloned Jackson fork suspended from its pulley. The hay
came down like a mountain slope to the other end of the barn, and there
was a level place as yet unfilled with the new crop. At the sides the
feeding racks were visible, and between the slats the heads of horses
It was Sunday afternoon. M
The resting horses nibbled the remaining wisps
of hay, and they stamped their feet and they bit the wood of the mangers
and rattled the halter chains. The afternoon sun sliced in through the
cracks of the barn walls and lay in bright lines on the hay. There was
the buzz of flies in the air, the lazy afternoon humming.
From outside came the clang of horseshoes on the playing peg and the
shouts of men, playing, encouraging, jeering. But in the barn it was
quiet and humming and lazy and warm.
as in the barn, and Lennie sat in the hay beside a packing
case under a manger in the end of the barn that had not been filled with
hay. Lennie sat in the hay and looked at a little dead puppy that lay in
front of him. Lennie looked at it for a long time, and then he put out
his huge hand and stroked it, stroked it clear from one end to the
And Lennie said softly to the puppy,
Why do you got to get killed? You
t so little as mice. I didn
and looked in its face, and he said to it,
t gonna let me tend no rabbits, if he fin
s out you got killed.
He scooped a little hollow and laid the puppy in it and covered it over
with hay, out of sight; but he continued to stare at the mound he had
t no bad thing like I got to go hide in the
brush. Oh! no. This ain
ll tell George I foun
He unburied the puppy and inspected it, and he stroked it from ears to
ll know. George always knows.
t try to put nothing over on me.
t get to tend no rabbits!
Suddenly his anger arose.
t so little as mice.
 He picked up the pup and
hurled it from him. He turned his back on it. He sat bent over his knees
t get to tend the rabbits. Now he won
 He rocked himself back and forth in his sorrow.
From outside came the clang of horseshoes on the iron stake, and then a
little chorus of cries. Lennie got up and brought the puppy back and
laid it on the hay and sat down. He stroked the pup again.
d get killed so easy.
 He worked his fingers on the pup
This here God damn little
t nothing to George.
s wife came around the end of the last stall. She came very
quietly, so that Lennie didn
t see her. She wore her bright cotton dress
and the mules with the red ostrich feathers. Her face was made up and
the little sausage curls were all in place. She was quite near to him
before Lennie looked up and saw her.
In a panic he shoveled hay over the puppy with his fingers. He looked
What you got there, sonny boy?
ennie glared at her.
t to have nothing to do with
talk to you or nothing.
George giving you orders about everything?
Lennie looked down at the hay.
t tend no rabbits if I talk
ll get mad. Well, Curley got his
 if Curley gets tough, you can break his other han
t put nothing over on me about gettin
 Lennie was not to be drawn.
t gonna talk to you or
She knelt in the hay beside him.
horseshoe tenement goin
 to leave that tenement. Why can
t I talk to you? I never
get to talk to nobody. I get awful lonely.
t supposed to talk to you or nothing.
You can talk to people, but I can
nobody but Curley. Else he gets mad. How
d you like not to talk to
t supposed to. George
She changed the subject.
What you got covered up there?
s woe came back on him.
 And he swept the hay from on top of it.
s gonna bite me . . . an
 I made like I was gonna smack
t you worry none. He was jus
 a mutt. You can get
another one easy. The whole country is fulla mutts.
 Lennie explained miserably.
let me tend no rabbits now.
Well, he said if I done any more bad things he ain
She moved closer to him and she spoke soothingly.
 to me. Listen to the guys yell out there. They got four dollars
bet in that tenement. None of them ain
t gonna leave till it
If George sees me talkin
Her face grew angry.
s the matter with me?
a right to talk to nobody? Whatta they think I am, anyways? You
t talk to you. I ain
Well, George says you
ll get us in a mess.
What kinda harm am I doin
t none of them cares how I gotta live. I tell you I ain
 like this. I coulda made somethin
 And then her words tumbled out in a passion
of communication, as though she hurried before her listener could be
I lived right in Salinas,
Come there when I was
a kid. Well, a show come through, an
 I met one of the actors. He says I
could go with that show. But my ol
y fifteen. But the guy says I coulda. If I
 like this, you bet.
Lennie stroked the pup back and forth.
We gonna have a little
She went on with her story quickly, before she should be interruptM
Nother time I met a guy, an
 he was in pitchers. Went out to the
Riverside Dance Palace with him. He says he was gonna put me in the
movies. Says I was a natural. Soon
s he got back to Hollywood he was
gonna write to me about it.
 She looked closely at Lennie to see whether
she was impressing him.
I never got that letter,
 lady stole it. Well, I wasn
t gonna stay no place where I
t get nowhere or make something of myself, an
your letters. I ast her if she stole it, too, an
married Curley. Met him out to the Riverside Dance Palace that same
t told this to nobody before. Maybe I ought
_like_ Curley. He ain
 And because she had confided in
him, she moved closer to Lennie and sat beside him.
all them nice clothes like they wear. AnM
I coulda sat in them big hotels, an
 had pitchers took of me. When they
had them previews I coulda went to them, an
 spoke in the radio, an
ta cost me a cent because I was in the pitcher. An
clothes like they wear. Because this guy says I was a natural.
looked up at Lennie, and she made a small grand gesture with her arm and
hand to show that she could act. The fingers trailed after her leading
wrist, and her little finger stuck out grandly from the rest.
nie sighed deeply. From outside came the clang of a horseshoe on
metal, and then a chorus of cheers.
Somebody made a ringer,
Now the light was lifting as the sun went down, and the sun streaks
climbed up the wall and fell over the feeding racks and over the heads
Maybe if I took this pup out and throwed him away George
 then I could tend the rabbits without no
s wife said angrily,
u think of nothing but rabbits?
We gonna have a little place,
 Lennie explained patiently.
 a garden and a place for alfalfa, an
 I take a sack and get it all fulla alfalfa and then
I take it to the rabbits.
What makes you so nuts about rabbits?
Lennie had to think carefully before he could come to a conclusion. He
moved cautiously close to her, until he was right against her.
s. Once at a fair I seen some of them long-hair
 they was nice, you bet. Sometimes I
ve even pet mice, but
not when I could get nothing better.
s wife moved away from him a little.
 Lennie explained earnestly.
to pet nice things with my fingers, sof
She was a little bit reassured.
likes that. I like to feel silk an
vet. Do you like to feel velvet?
Lennie chuckled with pleasure.
I had some, too. A lady give me some, an
Clara. She give it right to me
bout this big a piece. I wisht I had
that velvet right now.
 A frown came over his face.
t seen it for a long time.
s wife laughed at him.
kinda nice fella. Jus
 like a big baby. ButM
 a person can see kinda what
 my hair sometimes I jus
 To show how she did it, she ran her fingers over
the top of her head.
Some people got kinda coarse hair,
Take Curley. His hair is jus
 like wire. But mine is soft
Course I brush it a lot. That makes it fine. Here
s hand and put it on her head.
s big fingers fell to stroking her hair.
 and he stroked harder.
 And then she cried angrily,
 She jerked her head sideways, and
s fingers closed on her hair and hung on.
Lennie was in a panic. His face was contorted. She screamed then, and
s other hand closed over her mouth and nose.
She struggled violently under his hands. Her feet battered on the hay
and she writhed to be free; and from under Lennie
s hand came a muffled
screaming. Lennie began to cry with fright.
George gonna say I done a bad thing. He ain
let me tend no rabbits.
 He moved his hand a little and her hoarse cry
ame out. Then Lennie grew angry.
you to yell. You gonna get me in trouble jus
 like George says you will.
 And she continued to struggle, and her eyes were
wild with terror. He shook her then, and he was angry with her.
 he said, and he shook her; and her body flopped like a
fish. And then she was still, for Lennie had broken her neck.
He looked down at her, and carefully he removed his hand from over hM
mouth, and she lay still.
ll be mad if you yell.
t answer nor move he bent
closely over her. He lifted her arm and let it drop. For a moment he
seemed bewildered. And then he whispered in fright,
I done another bad thing.
He pawed up the hay until it partly covered her.
From outside the barn came a cry of men and the double clang of shoes on
metal. For the first time Lennie became conscious of the M
crouched down in the hay and listened.
I done a real bad thing,
t of did that. George
 hide in the brush till he come. He
s gonna be mad. In the
brush till he come. Tha
 Lennie went back and looked at
the dead girl. The puppy lay close to her. Lennie picked it up.
s bad enough like it is.
under his coat, and he crept to the barn wall and pM
eered out between the
cracks, toward the horseshoe game. And then he crept around the end of
the last manger and disappeared.
The sun streaks were high on the wall by now, and the light was growing
soft in the barn. Curley
s wife lay on her back, and she was half
It was very quiet in the barn, and the quiet of the afternoon was on the
ranch. Even the clang of the pitched shoes, even the voices of the men
in the game seemed to grow more quiet. The air in the barn was dusky in
 of the outside day. A pigeon flew in through the open hay door
and circled and flew out again. Around the last stall came a shepherd
bitch, lean and long, with heavy, hanging dugs. Halfway to the packing
box where the puppies were she caught the dead scent of Curley
and the hair rose along her spine. She whimpered and cringed to the
packing box, and jumped in among the puppies.
s wife lay with a half-covering of yellow hay. And the meanness
and the plannings and the discontent and the aM
che for attention were all
gone from her face. She was very pretty and simple, and her face was
sweet and young. Now her rouged cheeks and her reddened lips made her
seem alive and sleeping very lightly. The curls, tiny little sausages,
were spread on the hay behind her head, and her lips were parted.
As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much
more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much,
much more than a moment.
Then gradually time awakened again andM
 moved sluggishly on. The horses
stamped on the other side of the feeding racks and the halter chains
clinked. Outside, the men
s voices became louder and clearer.
From around the end of the last stall old Candy
Oh, Lennie! You in here? I been figuring some more. Tell you
what we can do, Lennie.
 Old Candy appeared around the end of the last
 he called again; and then he stopped, and his body
stiffened. He rubbed his smooth wrist on hiM
s white stubble whiskers.
t know you was here,
t answer, he stepped nearer.
You oughten to sleep out
 he said disapprovingly; and then he was beside her and
 He looked about helplessly, and he rubbed his beard. And
then he jumped up and went quickly out of the barn.
But the barn was alive now. The horses stamped and snorted, and they
chewed the straw of their bedding and they clashed the chains of their
ers. In a moment Candy came back, and George was with him.
What was it you wanted to see me about?
Candy pointed at Curley
s wife. George stared.
 he asked. He stepped closer, and then he echoed Candy
 He was down on his knees beside her. He put his hand
over her heart. And finally, when he stood up, slowly and stiffly, his
face was as hard and tight as wood, and his eyes were hard.
George looked coldly at him.
t you got any idear?
 George said hopelessly.
maybe way back in my head I did.
What we gonna do now, George? What we gonna do now?
George was a long time in answering.
Guess . . . we gotta tell the
. . . guys. I guess we gotta get
get away. Why, the poor bastard
 And he tried to reassure
But Candy said excitedly,
im get away. You don
that Curley. Curley gon
George watched Candy
 the other guys will.
 And he looked back at Curley
Now Candy spoke his greatest fear.
 me can get that little
t we, George? You an
Before George answered, Candy dropped his head and looked down at the
George said softly,
I think I knowed from the very first. I think I
d never do her. He usta like to hear about it so much I got to
thinking maybe we would.
 Candy asked sulkily.
t answer his question. George said,
ll take my fifty bucks an
ll stay all night in some lousy cM
ll set in some poolroom till ever
 work another month an
ll have fifty bucks more.
s such a nice fella. I didn
George still stared at Curley
Lennie never done it in
All the time he done bad things, but he never done
 He straightened up and looked back at Candy.
listen. We gotta tell the guys. They got M
to bring him in, I guess. They
t no way out. Maybe they won
em hurt Lennie. Now you listen. The guys might think I was in
m gonna go in the bunk house. Then in a minute you come out and
tell the guys about her, and I
ll come along and make like I never seen
her. Will you do that? So the guys won
t think I was in on it?
Sure, George. Sure I
O.K. Give me a couple minutes then, and you coM
 George turned and went quickly
Old Candy watched him go. He looked helplessly back at Curley
and gradually his sorrow and his anger grew into words.
 he said viciously.
d mess things up. You wasn
t no good now, you lousy tart.
 He sniveled, and his voice shook.
 hoed in the garden and washed dishes for them guys.
and then went on in a singsong. And he repeated the old words:
was a circus or a baseball game . . . we would of went to her . . . jus
 went to her. Never ast nobody
d of been a pig and chickens . . . an
 in the winter . . . the
little fat stove . . . an
 His eyes blinded with tears and he turned and went weM
the barn, and he rubbed his bristly whiskers with his wrist stump.
Outside the noise of the game stopped. There was a rise of voices in
question, a drum of running feet and the men burst into the barn. Slim
and Carlson and young Whit and Curley, and Crooks keeping back out of
attention range. Candy came after them, and last of all came George.
George had put on his blue denim coat and buttoned it, and his black hat
was pulled down low over his eyes. The men raced around the last stall.
s wife in the gloom, they stopped and stood
Then Slim went quietly over to her, and he felt her wrist. One lean
finger touched her cheek, and then his hand went under her slightly
twisted neck and his fingers explored her neck. When he stood up the men
crowded near and the spell was broken.
Curley came suddenly to life.
son-of-a-bitch done it. I know he done it. Why
 He worked himself into a fury.
m going for my shotgun. I
ll kill the big son-of-a-bitch myself.
im in the guts. Come on, you guys.
 He ran furiously out of
the barn. Carlson said,
 and he ran out too.
Slim turned quietly to George.
I guess Lennie done it, all right,
s bust. Lennie coulda did that.
t answer, but he nodded slowly. His hat was so far down on
his forehead that his eyes M
Maybe like that time in Weed you was tellin
Again George nodded.
Well, I guess we got to get him. Where you think he might
It seemed to take George some time to free his words.
We come from north so he would of went south.
I guess we gotta get
George stepped close.
 we maybe bring him in an
never done this to be mean.
If we could keep Curley in, we might.
s gonna want to shoot
s still mad about his hand.
pose they lock him up an
 strap him down and put him in a cage.
Carlson came running in.
 Curley followed him, and Curley carried a shotgun in
nd. Curley was cold now.
All right, you guys,
s got a shotgun. You take
it, Carlson. When you see
im no chance. Shoot for his
Whit said excitedly,
You go in Soledad an
 get a cop. Get Al Wilts, he
 He turned suspiciously on George.
ll come. But listen, CurleM
t know what he was doin
George said weakly,
Maybe Carlson lost his gun.
I seen it this morning,
Slim stood looking down at Curley
better stay here with your wife.
outa that big bastard myself, even if I only got one hand. I
Slim turned to Candy.
You stay here with her then, Candy. The rest of
They moved away. George stopped a moment beside Candy and they both
looked down at the dead girl until Curley called,
You George! You stick
t think you had nothin
George moved slowly after them, and his feet dragged heavily.
And when they were gone, CandM
y squatted down in the hay and watched the
The sound of the men grew fainter. The barn was darkening gradually and,
in their stalls, the horses shifted their feet and rattled the halter
chains. Old Candy lay down in the hay and covered his eyes with his arm.
                                   6
The deep green pool of the Salinas River was still in the late
afternoon. Already the sun had left the valley to go climbing up the
 the Gabilan mountains, and the hilltops were rosy in the sun.
But by the pool among the mottled sycamores, a pleasant shade had
A water snake glided smoothly up the pool, twisting its periscope head
from side to side; and it swam the length of the pool and came to the
legs of a motionless heron that stood in the shallows. A silent head and
beak lanced down and plucked it out by the head, and the beak swallowed
the little snake while its tail waved frantically.
A far rush of wind sounded and a gM
ust drove through the tops of the
trees like a wave. The sycamore leaves turned up their silver sides, the
brown, dry leaves on the ground scudded a few feet. And row on row of
tiny wind waves flowed up the pool
As quickly as it had come, the wind died, and the clearing was quiet
again. The heron stood in the shallows, motionless and waiting. Another
little water snake swam up the pool, turning its periscope head from
Suddenly Lennie appeared out of the brush, and he camM
creeping bear moves. The heron pounded the air with its wings, jacked
itself clear of the water and flew off down river. The little snake slid
in among the reeds at the pool
Lennie came quietly to the pool
s edge. He knelt down and drank, barely
touching his lips to the water. When a little bird skittered over the
dry leaves behind him, his head jerked up and he strained toward the
sound with eyes and ears until he saw the bird, and then he dropped his
head and drank again.
When he was finished, he sat down on the bank, with his side to the
pool, so that he could watch the trail
s entrance. He embraced his knees
and laid his chin down on his knees.
The light climbed on out of the valley, and as it went, the tops of the
mountains seemed to blaze with increasing brightness.
Lennie said softly,
t forget, you bet, God damn. Hide in the
 He pulled his hat down low over his eyes.
George gonna give me hell,
 gonna wish he was alone
 not have me botherin
 He turned his head and looked at the
bright mountain tops.
I can go right off there an
said. And he continued sadly,
 never have no ketchup
And then from out of Lennie
s head there came a little fat old woman.
s-eye glasses and she wore a huge gingham apron with
pockets, and she was starched and clM
ean. She stood in front of Lennie
and put her hands on her hips, and she frowned disapprovingly at him.
And when she spoke, it was in Lennie
s such a nice fella an
t never take no care. You do bad things.
And Lennie answered her,
I tried, Aunt Clara, ma
am. I tried and tried.
You never give a thought to George,
 she went on in LenM
 nice things for you alla time. When he got a piece a pie you
always got half or more
 if they was any ketchup, why he
 said Lennie miserably.
I tried, Aunt Clara, ma
She interrupted him.
All the time he coulda had such a good time if it
t for you. He woulda took his pay an
 raised hell in a whore house,
and he coulda set in a pool room an
 played snooker. But he got to taM
Lennie moaned with grief.
I know, Aunt Clara, ma
ll live there so I won
more trouble to George.
you know sonofabitching well you ain
t never gonna do it. You
Jesus outa George all the time.
 as well go away. George ain
tend no rabbits now.
Aunt Clara was gone, and from out of Lennie
s head there came a gigantic
rabbit. It sat on its haunches in front of him, and it waggled its ears
and crinkled its nose at him. And it spoke in Lennie
 it said scornfully.
You crazy bastard. You ain
lick the boots of no rabbit. You
 then what would George think?
I would _not_ forget,
jack-pin to ram you into hell. Christ knows George done ever
could to jack you outa the sewer, but it don
t do no good. If you think
George gonna let you tend rabbits, you
s gonna beat hell outa you with a stick, that
Now Lennie retorted belligerently,
t neither. George won
nothing like that. I
never raised his han
 to me with a stick. He
s nice to me. He ain
s gonna beat hell outa you
 Lennie cried frantically.
t do nothing like that. I
 him travels together.
But the rabbit repeated softly over and over,
He gonna leave you, ya
crazy bastard. He gonna leave ya all alone. He gonna leM
Lennie put his hands over his ears.
George came quietly out of the brush and the rabbit scuttled back into
George said quietly,
What the hell you yellin
Lennie got up on his knees.
t gonna leave me, are ya, George? I
George came stiffly near and sat down beside him.
I done another bad thing.
t make no difference,
 George said, and he fell silent again.
Only the topmost ridges were in the sun now. The shadow in the valley
was blue and soft. From the distance came the sound of men shouting to
one another. George turned his head and listened to the shouts.
t you gonna give me hell?
Sure, like you always done before. Like,
Jesus Christ, Lennie! You can
t remember nothing that happens, but you
George shook himself. He said woodenly,
If I was alone I could live so
 His voice was monotonous, had no emphasis.
I could get a job an
 when the enda the montM
 when the end of the month come I could take my fifty bucks an
to a . . . cat house . . .
Lennie looked eagerly at him.
t you gonna give me no
Well, I can go away,
ll go right off in the hills an
find a cave if you don
George shook himself again.
I want you to stay with me
Lennie said craftily
Bout the other guys an
Guys like us got no fambly. They make a little stake an
then they blow it in. They ain
t got nobody in the worl
 Lennie cried happily.
George was quiet for a moment.
Because I got you an
 I got you. We got each other, that
that gives a hoot in
 Lennie cried in triumph.
The little evening breeze blew over the clearing and the leaves rustled
and the wind waves flowed up the green pool. And the shouts of men
sounded again, this time much closer than before.
George took off his hat. He said shakily,
Take off your hat, Lennie.
Lennie removed his hat dutifully and laid it on the ground in front of
him. The shadow in the valley was bluer, and the evening came fast. On
und of crashing in the brush came to them.
George had been listening to the distant sounds. For a moment he was
Look acrost the river, Lennie, an
Lennie turned his head and looked off across the pool and up the
darkening slopes of the Gabilans.
We gonna get a little place,
began. He reached in his side pocket and brought out Carlson
snapped off the safety, and the hM
and and gun lay on the ground behind
s back. He looked at the back of Lennie
s head, at the place
where the spine and skull were joined.
s voice called from up the river, and another man answered.
George raised the gun and his hand shook, and he dropped his hand to the
s it gonna be. We gonna get a little place.
ll have maybe a pig an
ll have a . . . little piece
And I get to tend the rabbits.
 you get to tend the rabbits.
Lennie giggled with happiness.
 live on the fatta the lan
Lennie turned his head.
No, Lennie. Look down there acrost the river, like you can almost see
Lennie obeyed him. George looked down at the gun.
crashing footsteps in the brush now. George turned and looked
Go on, George. When we gonna do it?
body gonna be nice to you. Ain
more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from
I thought you was mad at me, George.
t mad. I never been mad, an
s a thing I want ya to know.
ces came close now. George raised the gun and listened to the
s get that place now.
Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta.
And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of
it close to the back of Lennie
s head. The hand shook violently, but his
face set and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger. The crash of the
shot rolled up the hills and rolled down again. Lennie jarred, and then
settled slowly forward to the sand, aM
nd he lay without quivering.
George shivered and looked at the gun, and then he threw it from him,
back up on the bank, near the pile of old ashes.
The brush seemed filled with cries and with the sound of running feet.
George. Where you at, George?
But George sat stiffly on the bank and looked at his right hand that had
thrown the gun away. The group burst into the clearing, and Curley was
ahead. He saw Lennie lying on the sand.
ked down at Lennie, and then he looked back at George.
the back of the head,
Slim came directly to George and sat down beside him, sat very close to
A guy got to sometimes.
But Carlson was standing over George.
 George said tiredly.
Yeah. He had your gun.
 you got it away from him and you took it an
s voice was almost a whisper. He looked
steadily at his right hand that had held the gun.
Slim twitched George
Come on, George. Me an
George let himself be helped to his feet.
You hadda, George. I swear you hadda. Come on with me.
led George into the entrance of the trail and up toward the highway.
Curley and Carlson looked after them. And Carlson said,
              A L S O   B Y   J O H N   S T E I N B E C K
               Travels with Charley in Search of America
        The Winter of Our Discontent       Once There Was a War
           The Short Reign of Pippin IV       Sweet Thursday
     East of Eden       The Log from the Sea of Cortez (_Compass_)
                 Burning Bright (a play in story form)
                   A Russian Journal        The Pearl
                  The Wayward Bus M
               Bombs Away        The Moon Is Down (Novel)
                        The Moon Is Down (Play)
        Sea of Cortez (in collaboration with Edward F. Ricketts)
      The Grapes of Wrath (_Compass_)       The Forgotten Village
             The Long Valley (_Compass_)       The Red Pony
           Of Mice and Men (Play)       Saint Katy the Virgin
                 In Dubious Battle       Tortilla Flat
             To a God Unknown       The Pastures of Heaven
                              Cup of Gold
                                THE END
                           TRANSCRIBER NOTES
    Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where
    multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
    Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer
    For ease of navigation, Chapter numbers have been added to the
    text version of this eBook. The original book did not have
    chapter numbers or names. OtheL
r versions rely on visual cues and
    internally generated bookmarks and table of contents.
[The end of _Of Mice and Men_ by John Steinbeck]
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text/plain;charset=utf-8
Project Gutenberg Australia
Title:      Animal Farm
Author:     George Orwell (pseudonym of Eric Blair) (1903-1950)
* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.:  0100011.txt
Date first posted:          August 2001
Date most recently updated: March 2008
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Title:      Animal Farm
Author:     George Orwell (pseuM
donym of Eric Blair) (1903-1950)
Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but
was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes. With the ring of light
from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard,
kicked off his boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer
from the barrel in the scullery, and made his way up to bed, where
Mrs. Jones was already snoring.
As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a
ring all through the farm buildings. Word had gone round during the
day that old Major, the prize Middle White boar, had had a strange dream
on the previous night and wished to communicate it to the other animals.
It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon as
Mr. Jones was safely out of the way. Old Major (so he was always called,
though the name under which he had been exhibited was Willingdon Beauty)
was so highly regarded on the farm that everyone was quite ready to lose
 in order to hear what he had to say.
At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was
already ensconced on his bed of straw, under a lantern which hung from a
beam. He was twelve years old and had lately grown rather stout, but he
was still a majestic-looking pig, with a wise and benevolent appearance in
spite of the fact that his tushes had never been cut. Before long the
other animals began to arrive and make themselves comfortable after their
different fashions. First came the three dogs, BlM
Pincher, and then the pigs, who settled down in the straw immediately in
front of the platform. The hens perched themselves on the window-sills,
the pigeons fluttered up to the rafters, the sheep and cows lay down
behind the pigs and began to chew the cud. The two cart-horses, Boxer and
Clover, came in together, walking very slowly and setting down their vast
hairy hoofs with great care lest there should be some small animal
concealed in the straw. Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching
ddle life, who had never quite got her figure back after her fourth foal.
Boxer was an enormous beast, nearly eighteen hands high, and as strong as
any two ordinary horses put together. A white stripe down his nose gave
him a somewhat stupid appearance, and in fact he was not of first-rate
intelligence, but he was universally respected for his steadiness of
character and tremendous powers of work. After the horses came Muriel,
the white goat, and Benjamin, the donkey. Benjamin was the oldest animal
 the worst tempered. He seldom talked, and when he did, it
was usually to make some cynical remark--for instance, he would say that
God had given him a tail to keep the flies off, but that he would sooner
have had no tail and no flies. Alone among the animals on the farm he
never laughed. If asked why, he would say that he saw nothing to laugh at.
Nevertheless, without openly admitting it, he was devoted to Boxer; the
two of them usually spent their Sundays together in the small paddock
beyond the orchard, grazing M
side by side and never speaking.
The two horses had just lain down when a brood of ducklings, which had
lost their mother, filed into the barn, cheeping feebly and wandering from
side to side to find some place where they would not be trodden on. Clover
made a sort of wall round them with her great foreleg, and the ducklings
nestled down inside it and promptly fell asleep. At the last moment
Mollie, the foolish, pretty white mare who drew Mr. Jones's trap, came
mincing daintily in, chewing at a lump of sugar. She M
took a place near the
front and began flirting her white mane, hoping to draw attention to the
red ribbons it was plaited with. Last of all came the cat, who looked
round, as usual, for the warmest place, and finally squeezed herself in
between Boxer and Clover; there she purred contentedly throughout Major's
speech without listening to a word of what he was saying.
All the animals were now present except Moses, the tame raven, who slept
on a perch behind the back door. When Major saw that they had all made
lves comfortable and were waiting attentively, he cleared his throat
"Comrades, you have heard already about the strange dream that I had last
night. But I will come to the dream later. I have something else to say
first. I do not think, comrades, that I shall be with you for many months
longer, and before I die, I feel it my duty to pass on to you such wisdom
as I have acquired. I have had a long life, I have had much time for
thought as I lay alone in my stall, and I think I may say that I
the nature of life on this earth as well as any animal now
living. It is about this that I wish to speak to you.
"Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face it:
our lives are miserable, laborious, and short. We are born, we are given
just so much food as will keep the breath in our bodies, and those of us
who are capable of it are forced to work to the last atom of our strength;
and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end we are
slaughtered with hideous cruelty. No animal iM
n England knows the meaning
of happiness or leisure after he is a year old. No animal in England is
free. The life of an animal is misery and slavery: that is the plain truth.
"But is this simply part of the order of nature? Is it because this land
of ours is so poor that it cannot afford a decent life to those who dwell
upon it? No, comrades, a thousand times no! The soil of England is
fertile, its climate is good, it is capable of affording food in abundance
to an enormously greater number of animals than now inM
single farm of ours would support a dozen horses, twenty cows, hundreds of
sheep--and all of them living in a comfort and a dignity that are now
almost beyond our imagining. Why then do we continue in this miserable
condition? Because nearly the whole of the produce of our labour is stolen
from us by human beings. There, comrades, is the answer to all our
problems. It is summed up in a single word--Man. Man is the only real
enemy we have. Remove Man from the scene, and the root cause of hunger and
erwork is abolished for ever.
"Man is the only creature that consumes without producing. He does not
give milk, he does not lay eggs, he is too weak to pull the plough, he
cannot run fast enough to catch rabbits. Yet he is lord of all the
animals. He sets them to work, he gives back to them the bare minimum that
will prevent them from starving, and the rest he keeps for himself. Our
labour tills the soil, our dung fertilises it, and yet there is not one of
us that owns more than his bare skin. You cows that I see M
many thousands of gallons of milk have you given during this last year?
And what has happened to that milk which should have been breeding up
sturdy calves? Every drop of it has gone down the throats of our enemies.
And you hens, how many eggs have you laid in this last year, and how many
of those eggs ever hatched into chickens? The rest have all gone to market
to bring in money for Jones and his men. And you, Clover, where are those
four foals you bore, who should have been the support and pleasureM
old age? Each was sold at a year old--you will never see one of them
again. In return for your four confinements and all your labour in the
fields, what have you ever had except your bare rations and a stall?
"And even the miserable lives we lead are not allowed to reach their
natural span. For myself I do not grumble, for I am one of the lucky ones.
I am twelve years old and have had over four hundred children. Such is the
natural life of a pig. But no animal escapes the cruel knife in the end.
 porkers who are sitting in front of me, every one of you will
scream your lives out at the block within a year. To that horror we all
must come--cows, pigs, hens, sheep, everyone. Even the horses and the dogs
have no better fate. You, Boxer, the very day that those great muscles of
yours lose their power, Jones will sell you to the knacker, who will cut
your throat and boil you down for the foxhounds. As for the dogs, when
they grow old and toothless, Jones ties a brick round their necks and
drowns them in the neaM
"Is it not crystal clear, then, comrades, that all the evils of this life
of ours spring from the tyranny of human beings? Only get rid of Man, and
the produce of our labour would be our own. Almost overnight we could
become rich and free. What then must we do? Why, work night and day, body
and soul, for the overthrow of the human race! That is my message to you,
comrades: Rebellion! I do not know when that Rebellion will come, it might
be in a week or in a hundred years, but I know, as surely as I see M
straw beneath my feet, that sooner or later justice will be done. Fix your
eyes on that, comrades, throughout the short remainder of your lives! And
above all, pass on this message of mine to those who come after you, so
that future generations shall carry on the struggle until it is victorious.
"And remember, comrades, your resolution must never falter. No argument
must lead you astray. Never listen when they tell you that Man and the
animals have a common interest, that the prosperity of the one is the
perity of the others. It is all lies. Man serves the interests of no
creature except himself. And among us animals let there be perfect unity,
perfect comradeship in the struggle. All men are enemies. All animals are
At this moment there was a tremendous uproar. While Major was speaking
four large rats had crept out of their holes and were sitting on their
hindquarters, listening to him. The dogs had suddenly caught sight of
them, and it was only by a swift dash for their holes that the rats saved
 lives. Major raised his trotter for silence.
"Comrades," he said, "here is a point that must be settled. The wild
creatures, such as rats and rabbits--are they our friends or our enemies?
Let us put it to the vote. I propose this question to the meeting: Are
The vote was taken at once, and it was agreed by an overwhelming majority
that rats were comrades. There were only four dissentients, the three dogs
and the cat, who was afterwards discovered to have voted on both sides.
have little more to say. I merely repeat, remember always your duty of
enmity towards Man and all his ways. Whatever goes upon two legs is an
enemy. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend. And
remember also that in fighting against Man, we must not come to resemble
him. Even when you have conquered him, do not adopt his vices. No animal
must ever live in a house, or sleep in a bed, or wear clothes, or drink
alcohol, or smoke tobacco, or touch money, or engage in trade. All the
habits of Man are eviM
l. And, above all, no animal must ever tyrannise over
his own kind. Weak or strong, clever or simple, we are all brothers. No
animal must ever kill any other animal. All animals are equal.
"And now, comrades, I will tell you about my dream of last night. I cannot
describe that dream to you. It was a dream of the earth as it will be when
Man has vanished. But it reminded me of something that I had long
forgotten. Many years ago, when I was a little pig, my mother and the
other sows used to sing an old song of whichM
 they knew only the tune and
the first three words. I had known that tune in my infancy, but it had
long since passed out of my mind. Last night, however, it came back to me
in my dream. And what is more, the words of the song also came back-words,
I am certain, which were sung by the animals of long ago and have been
lost to memory for generations. I will sing you that song now, comrades.
I am old and my voice is hoarse, but when I have taught you the tune, you
can sing it better for yourselves. It is called 'BeasM
Old Major cleared his throat and began to sing. As he had said, his voice
was hoarse, but he sang well enough, and it was a stirring tune, something
between 'Clementine' and 'La Cucaracha'. The words ran:
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings
Of the golden future time.
Soon or late the day is coming,
Tyrant Man shall be o'erthrown,
And the fruitful fields of England
Shall be trod by beasts alone.
Rings shall vanish from our noses,
 the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever,
Cruel whips no more shall crack.
Riches more than mind can picture,
Wheat and barley, oats and hay,
Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels
Shall be ours upon that day.
Bright will shine the fields of England,
Purer shall its waters be,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.
For that day we all must labour,
Though we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,
All must toil for freedom's sake.
Beasts of England, beastsM
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken well and spread my tidings
Of the golden future time.
The singing of this song threw the animals into the wildest excitement.
Almost before Major had reached the end, they had begun singing it for
themselves. Even the stupidest of them had already picked up the tune and
a few of the words, and as for the clever ones, such as the pigs and dogs,
they had the entire song by heart within a few minutes. And then, after a
few preliminary tries, the whole farm burst oM
ut into 'Beasts of England' in
tremendous unison. The cows lowed it, the dogs whined it, the sheep
bleated it, the horses whinnied it, the ducks quacked it. They were so
delighted with the song that they sang it right through five times in
succession, and might have continued singing it all night if they had not
Unfortunately, the uproar awoke Mr. Jones, who sprang out of bed, making
sure that there was a fox in the yard. He seized the gun which always
stood in a corner of his bedroom, and let flM
y a charge of number 6 shot
into the darkness. The pellets buried themselves in the wall of the barn
and the meeting broke up hurriedly. Everyone fled to his own
sleeping-place. The birds jumped on to their perches, the animals settled
down in the straw, and the whole farm was asleep in a moment.
Three nights later old Major died peacefully in his sleep. His body was
buried at the foot of the orchard.
This was early in March. During the next three months there was much
secret activity. Major's spM
eech had given to the more intelligent animals
on the farm a completely new outlook on life. They did not know when the
Rebellion predicted by Major would take place, they had no reason for
thinking that it would be within their own lifetime, but they saw clearly
that it was their duty to prepare for it. The work of teaching and
organising the others fell naturally upon the pigs, who were generally
recognised as being the cleverest of the animals. Pre-eminent among the
pigs were two young boars named Snowball and NM
apoleon, whom Mr. Jones was
breeding up for sale. Napoleon was a large, rather fierce-looking
Berkshire boar, the only Berkshire on the farm, not much of a talker, but
with a reputation for getting his own way. Snowball was a more vivacious
pig than Napoleon, quicker in speech and more inventive, but was not
considered to have the same depth of character. All the other male pigs on
the farm were porkers. The best known among them was a small fat pig named
Squealer, with very round cheeks, twinkling eyes, nimble movM
shrill voice. He was a brilliant talker, and when he was arguing some
difficult point he had a way of skipping from side to side and whisking
his tail which was somehow very persuasive. The others said of Squealer
that he could turn black into white.
These three had elaborated old Major's teachings into a complete system of
thought, to which they gave the name of Animalism. Several nights a week,
after Mr. Jones was asleep, they held secret meetings in the barn and
expounded the principles of AnimaliM
sm to the others. At the beginning they
met with much stupidity and apathy. Some of the animals talked of the duty
of loyalty to Mr. Jones, whom they referred to as "Master," or made
elementary remarks such as "Mr. Jones feeds us. If he were gone, we should
starve to death." Others asked such questions as "Why should we care what
happens after we are dead?" or "If this Rebellion is to happen anyway,
what difference does it make whether we work for it or not?", and the pigs
had great difficulty in making them see thM
at this was contrary to the
spirit of Animalism. The stupidest questions of all were asked by Mollie,
the white mare. The very first question she asked Snowball was: "Will
there still be sugar after the Rebellion?"
"No," said Snowball firmly. "We have no means of making sugar on this
farm. Besides, you do not need sugar. You will have all the oats and hay
"And shall I still be allowed to wear ribbons in my mane?" asked Mollie.
"Comrade," said Snowball, "those ribbons that you are so devoted to are
 badge of slavery. Can you not understand that liberty is worth more
Mollie agreed, but she did not sound very convinced.
The pigs had an even harder struggle to counteract the lies put about by
Moses, the tame raven. Moses, who was Mr. Jones's especial pet, was a spy
and a tale-bearer, but he was also a clever talker. He claimed to know of
the existence of a mysterious country called Sugarcandy Mountain, to which
all animals went when they died. It was situated somewhere up in the sky,
stance beyond the clouds, Moses said. In Sugarcandy Mountain it
was Sunday seven days a week, clover was in season all the year round, and
lump sugar and linseed cake grew on the hedges. The animals hated Moses
because he told tales and did no work, but some of them believed in
Sugarcandy Mountain, and the pigs had to argue very hard to persuade them
that there was no such place.
Their most faithful disciples were the two cart-horses, Boxer and Clover.
These two had great difficulty in thinking anything out for thM
but having once accepted the pigs as their teachers, they absorbed
everything that they were told, and passed it on to the other animals by
simple arguments. They were unfailing in their attendance at the secret
meetings in the barn, and led the singing of 'Beasts of England', with
which the meetings always ended.
Now, as it turned out, the Rebellion was achieved much earlier and more
easily than anyone had expected. In past years Mr. Jones, although a hard
master, had been a capable farmer, but of late M
he had fallen on evil days.
He had become much disheartened after losing money in a lawsuit, and had
taken to drinking more than was good for him. For whole days at a time he
would lounge in his Windsor chair in the kitchen, reading the newspapers,
drinking, and occasionally feeding Moses on crusts of bread soaked in
beer. His men were idle and dishonest, the fields were full of weeds, the
buildings wanted roofing, the hedges were neglected, and the animals were
June came and the hay was almost ready forM
 cutting. On Midsummer's Eve,
which was a Saturday, Mr. Jones went into Willingdon and got so drunk at
the Red Lion that he did not come back till midday on Sunday. The men had
milked the cows in the early morning and then had gone out rabbiting,
without bothering to feed the animals. When Mr. Jones got back he
immediately went to sleep on the drawing-room sofa with the News of the
World over his face, so that when evening came, the animals were still
unfed. At last they could stand it no longer. One of the cows brM
door of the store-shed with her horn and all the animals began to help
themselves from the bins. It was just then that Mr. Jones woke up. The
next moment he and his four men were in the store-shed with whips in their
hands, lashing out in all directions. This was more than the hungry
animals could bear. With one accord, though nothing of the kind had been
planned beforehand, they flung themselves upon their tormentors. Jones and
his men suddenly found themselves being butted and kicked from all sides.
e situation was quite out of their control. They had never seen animals
behave like this before, and this sudden uprising of creatures whom they
were used to thrashing and maltreating just as they chose, frightened them
almost out of their wits. After only a moment or two they gave up trying
to defend themselves and took to their heels. A minute later all five of
them were in full flight down the cart-track that led to the main road,
with the animals pursuing them in triumph.
Mrs. Jones looked out of the bedroom wM
indow, saw what was happening,
hurriedly flung a few possessions into a carpet bag, and slipped out of
the farm by another way. Moses sprang off his perch and flapped after her,
croaking loudly. Meanwhile the animals had chased Jones and his men out on
to the road and slammed the five-barred gate behind them. And so, almost
before they knew what was happening, the Rebellion had been successfully
carried through: Jones was expelled, and the Manor Farm was theirs.
For the first few minutes the animals could hardly bM
elieve in their good
fortune. Their first act was to gallop in a body right round the
boundaries of the farm, as though to make quite sure that no human being
was hiding anywhere upon it; then they raced back to the farm buildings to
wipe out the last traces of Jones's hated reign. The harness-room at the
end of the stables was broken open; the bits, the nose-rings, the
dog-chains, the cruel knives with which Mr. Jones had been used to
castrate the pigs and lambs, were all flung down the well. The reins, the
s, the blinkers, the degrading nosebags, were thrown on to the
rubbish fire which was burning in the yard. So were the whips. All the
animals capered with joy when they saw the whips going up in flames.
Snowball also threw on to the fire the ribbons with which the horses'
manes and tails had usually been decorated on market days.
"Ribbons," he said, "should be considered as clothes, which are the mark
of a human being. All animals should go naked."
When Boxer heard this he fetched the small straw hat which he worM
summer to keep the flies out of his ears, and flung it on to the fire with
In a very little while the animals had destroyed everything that reminded
them of Mr. Jones. Napoleon then led them back to the store-shed and
served out a double ration of corn to everybody, with two biscuits for
each dog. Then they sang 'Beasts of England' from end to end seven times
running, and after that they settled down for the night and slept as they
had never slept before.
But they woke at dawn as usual, and suddenlM
y remembering the glorious
thing that had happened, they all raced out into the pasture together. A
little way down the pasture there was a knoll that commanded a view of
most of the farm. The animals rushed to the top of it and gazed round them
in the clear morning light. Yes, it was theirs--everything that they could
see was theirs! In the ecstasy of that thought they gambolled round and
round, they hurled themselves into the air in great leaps of excitement.
They rolled in the dew, they cropped mouthfuls of the M
they kicked up clods of the black earth and snuffed its rich scent. Then
they made a tour of inspection of the whole farm and surveyed with
speechless admiration the ploughland, the hayfield, the orchard, the pool,
the spinney. It was as though they had never seen these things before, and
even now they could hardly believe that it was all their own.
Then they filed back to the farm buildings and halted in silence outside
the door of the farmhouse. That was theirs too, but they were frightened
o go inside. After a moment, however, Snowball and Napoleon butted the
door open with their shoulders and the animals entered in single file,
walking with the utmost care for fear of disturbing anything. They tiptoed
from room to room, afraid to speak above a whisper and gazing with a kind
of awe at the unbelievable luxury, at the beds with their feather
mattresses, the looking-glasses, the horsehair sofa, the Brussels carpet,
the lithograph of Queen Victoria over the drawing-room mantelpiece. They
 down the stairs when Mollie was discovered to be missing.
Going back, the others found that she had remained behind in the best
bedroom. She had taken a piece of blue ribbon from Mrs. Jones's
dressing-table, and was holding it against her shoulder and admiring
herself in the glass in a very foolish manner. The others reproached her
sharply, and they went outside. Some hams hanging in the kitchen were
taken out for burial, and the barrel of beer in the scullery was stove in
with a kick from Boxer's hoof, otherwise M
nothing in the house was touched.
A unanimous resolution was passed on the spot that the farmhouse should be
preserved as a museum. All were agreed that no animal must ever live there.
The animals had their breakfast, and then Snowball and Napoleon called
them together again.
"Comrades," said Snowball, "it is half-past six and we have a long day
before us. Today we begin the hay harvest. But there is another matter
that must be attended to first."
The pigs now revealed that during the past three months they had M
themselves to read and write from an old spelling book which had belonged
to Mr. Jones's children and which had been thrown on the rubbish heap.
Napoleon sent for pots of black and white paint and led the way down to
the five-barred gate that gave on to the main road. Then Snowball (for it
was Snowball who was best at writing) took a brush between the two
knuckles of his trotter, painted out MANOR FARM from the top bar of the
gate and in its place painted ANIMAL FARM. This was to be the name of the
 now onwards. After this they went back to the farm buildings,
where Snowball and Napoleon sent for a ladder which they caused to be set
against the end wall of the big barn. They explained that by their studies
of the past three months the pigs had succeeded in reducing the principles
of Animalism to Seven Commandments. These Seven Commandments would now be
inscribed on the wall; they would form an unalterable law by which all the
animals on Animal Farm must live for ever after. With some difficulty
 easy for a pig to balance himself on a ladder) Snowball
climbed up and set to work, with Squealer a few rungs below him holding
the paint-pot. The Commandments were written on the tarred wall in great
white letters that could be read thirty yards away. They ran thus:
THE SEVEN COMMANDMENTS
1. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy.
2. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend.
3. No animal shall wear clothes.
4. No animal shall sleep in a bed.
5. No animal shall drink alcohol.
6. No animal shall M
kill any other animal.
7. All animals are equal.
It was very neatly written, and except that "friend" was written "freind"
and one of the "S's" was the wrong way round, the spelling was correct all
the way through. Snowball read it aloud for the benefit of the others. All
the animals nodded in complete agreement, and the cleverer ones at once
began to learn the Commandments by heart.
"Now, comrades," cried Snowball, throwing down the paint-brush, "to the
hayfield! Let us make it a point of honour to get in the hM
quickly than Jones and his men could do."
But at this moment the three cows, who had seemed uneasy for some time
past, set up a loud lowing. They had not been milked for twenty-four
hours, and their udders were almost bursting. After a little thought, the
pigs sent for buckets and milked the cows fairly successfully, their
trotters being well adapted to this task. Soon there were five buckets of
frothing creamy milk at which many of the animals looked with considerable
"What is going to happM
en to all that milk?" said someone.
"Jones used sometimes to mix some of it in our mash," said one of the hens.
"Never mind the milk, comrades!" cried Napoleon, placing himself in front
of the buckets. "That will be attended to. The harvest is more important.
Comrade Snowball will lead the way. I shall follow in a few minutes.
Forward, comrades! The hay is waiting."
So the animals trooped down to the hayfield to begin the harvest, and when
they came back in the evening it was noticed that the milk had disappeareM
How they toiled and sweated to get the hay in! But their efforts were
rewarded, for the harvest was an even bigger success than they had hoped.
Sometimes the work was hard; the implements had been designed for human
beings and not for animals, and it was a great drawback that no animal was
able to use any tool that involved standing on his hind legs. But the pigs
were so clever that they could think of a way round every difficulty. As
for the horses, they knew every inch of the field, and in M
the business of mowing and raking far better than Jones and his men had
ever done. The pigs did not actually work, but directed and supervised the
others. With their superior knowledge it was natural that they should
assume the leadership. Boxer and Clover would harness themselves to the
cutter or the horse-rake (no bits or reins were needed in these days, of
course) and tramp steadily round and round the field with a pig walking
behind and calling out "Gee up, comrade!" or "Whoa back, comrade!" as M
case might be. And every animal down to the humblest worked at turning the
hay and gathering it. Even the ducks and hens toiled to and fro all day in
the sun, carrying tiny wisps of hay in their beaks. In the end they
finished the harvest in two days' less time than it had usually taken
Jones and his men. Moreover, it was the biggest harvest that the farm had
ever seen. There was no wastage whatever; the hens and ducks with their
sharp eyes had gathered up the very last stalk. And not an animal on the
stolen so much as a mouthful.
All through that summer the work of the farm went like clockwork. The
animals were happy as they had never conceived it possible to be. Every
mouthful of food was an acute positive pleasure, now that it was truly
their own food, produced by themselves and for themselves, not doled out
to them by a grudging master. With the worthless parasitical human beings
gone, there was more for everyone to eat. There was more leisure too,
inexperienced though the animals were. They met with many dM
instance, later in the year, when they harvested the corn, they had to
tread it out in the ancient style and blow away the chaff with their
breath, since the farm possessed no threshing machine--but the pigs with
their cleverness and Boxer with his tremendous muscles always pulled them
through. Boxer was the admiration of everybody. He had been a hard worker
even in Jones's time, but now he seemed more like three horses than one;
there were days when the entire work of the farm seemed to rest on hiM
mighty shoulders. From morning to night he was pushing and pulling, always
at the spot where the work was hardest. He had made an arrangement with
one of the cockerels to call him in the mornings half an hour earlier than
anyone else, and would put in some volunteer labour at whatever seemed to
be most needed, before the regular day's work began. His answer to every
problem, every setback, was "I will work harder!"--which he had adopted as
But everyone worked according to his capacity. The heM
instance, saved five bushels of corn at the harvest by gathering up the
stray grains. Nobody stole, nobody grumbled over his rations, the
quarrelling and biting and jealousy which had been normal features of life
in the old days had almost disappeared. Nobody shirked--or almost nobody.
Mollie, it was true, was not good at getting up in the mornings, and had a
way of leaving work early on the ground that there was a stone in her
hoof. And the behaviour of the cat was somewhat peculiar. It was soon
noticed that when there was work to be done the cat could never be found.
She would vanish for hours on end, and then reappear at meal-times, or in
the evening after work was over, as though nothing had happened. But she
always made such excellent excuses, and purred so affectionately, that it
was impossible not to believe in her good intentions. Old Benjamin, the
donkey, seemed quite unchanged since the Rebellion. He did his work in the
same slow obstinate way as he had done it in Jones's time, never shirking
never volunteering for extra work either. About the Rebellion and its
results he would express no opinion. When asked whether he was not happier
now that Jones was gone, he would say only "Donkeys live a long time. None
of you has ever seen a dead donkey," and the others had to be content with
this cryptic answer.
On Sundays there was no work. Breakfast was an hour later than usual, and
after breakfast there was a ceremony which was observed every week without
fail. First came the hoisting of the flag. Snowball haM
harness-room an old green tablecloth of Mrs. Jones's and had painted on it
a hoof and a horn in white. This was run up the flagstaff in the farmhouse
garden every Sunday morning. The flag was green, Snowball explained, to
represent the green fields of England, while the hoof and horn signified
the future Republic of the Animals which would arise when the human race
had been finally overthrown. After the hoisting of the flag all the
animals trooped into the big barn for a general assembly which was knM
as the Meeting. Here the work of the coming week was planned out and
resolutions were put forward and debated. It was always the pigs who put
forward the resolutions. The other animals understood how to vote, but
could never think of any resolutions of their own. Snowball and Napoleon
were by far the most active in the debates. But it was noticed that these
two were never in agreement: whatever suggestion either of them made, the
other could be counted on to oppose it. Even when it was resolved--a thing
could object to in itself--to set aside the small paddock behind
the orchard as a home of rest for animals who were past work, there was a
stormy debate over the correct retiring age for each class of animal. The
Meeting always ended with the singing of 'Beasts of England', and the
afternoon was given up to recreation.
The pigs had set aside the harness-room as a headquarters for themselves.
Here, in the evenings, they studied blacksmithing, carpentering, and other
necessary arts from books which they had brought M
out of the farmhouse.
Snowball also busied himself with organising the other animals into what
he called Animal Committees. He was indefatigable at this. He formed the
Egg Production Committee for the hens, the Clean Tails League for the
cows, the Wild Comrades' Re-education Committee (the object of this was to
tame the rats and rabbits), the Whiter Wool Movement for the sheep, and
various others, besides instituting classes in reading and writing. On the
whole, these projects were a failure. The attempt to tame thM
creatures, for instance, broke down almost immediately. They continued to
behave very much as before, and when treated with generosity, simply took
advantage of it. The cat joined the Re-education Committee and was very
active in it for some days. She was seen one day sitting on a roof and
talking to some sparrows who were just out of her reach. She was telling
them that all animals were now comrades and that any sparrow who chose
could come and perch on her paw; but the sparrows kept their distance.
ading and writing classes, however, were a great success. By the
autumn almost every animal on the farm was literate in some degree.
As for the pigs, they could already read and write perfectly. The dogs
learned to read fairly well, but were not interested in reading anything
except the Seven Commandments. Muriel, the goat, could read somewhat
better than the dogs, and sometimes used to read to the others in the
evenings from scraps of newspaper which she found on the rubbish heap.
Benjamin could read as well as aM
ny pig, but never exercised his faculty.
So far as he knew, he said, there was nothing worth reading. Clover learnt
the whole alphabet, but could not put words together. Boxer could not get
beyond the letter D. He would trace out A, B, C, D, in the dust with his
great hoof, and then would stand staring at the letters with his ears
back, sometimes shaking his forelock, trying with all his might to
remember what came next and never succeeding. On several occasions,
indeed, he did learn E, F, G, H, but by the time he M
always discovered that he had forgotten A, B, C, and D. Finally he decided
to be content with the first four letters, and used to write them out once
or twice every day to refresh his memory. Mollie refused to learn any but
the six letters which spelt her own name. She would form these very neatly
out of pieces of twig, and would then decorate them with a flower or two
and walk round them admiring them.
None of the other animals on the farm could get further than the letter A.
It was also found tM
hat the stupider animals, such as the sheep, hens, and
ducks, were unable to learn the Seven Commandments by heart. After much
thought Snowball declared that the Seven Commandments could in effect be
reduced to a single maxim, namely: "Four legs good, two legs bad." This,
he said, contained the essential principle of Animalism. Whoever had
thoroughly grasped it would be safe from human influences. The birds at
first objected, since it seemed to them that they also had two legs, but
Snowball proved to them that thisM
"A bird's wing, comrades," he said, "is an organ of propulsion and not of
manipulation. It should therefore be regarded as a leg. The distinguishing
mark of man is the HAND, the instrument with which he does all his
The birds did not understand Snowball's long words, but they accepted his
explanation, and all the humbler animals set to work to learn the new
maxim by heart. FOUR LEGS GOOD, TWO LEGS BAD, was inscribed on the end
wall of the barn, above the Seven Commandments and in bigger leM
they had once got it by heart, the sheep developed a great liking for this
maxim, and often as they lay in the field they would all start bleating
"Four legs good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two legs bad!" and keep it
up for hours on end, never growing tired of it.
Napoleon took no interest in Snowball's committees. He said that the
education of the young was more important than anything that could be done
for those who were already grown up. It happened that Jessie and Bluebell
had both whelped sooM
n after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to
nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they were weaned, Napoleon took them away
from their mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for
their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached
by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion
that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.
The mystery of where the milk went to was soon cleared up. It was mixed
every day into the pigs' mash. The early apples M
were now ripening, and the
grass of the orchard was littered with windfalls. The animals had assumed
as a matter of course that these would be shared out equally; one day,
however, the order went forth that all the windfalls were to be collected
and brought to the harness-room for the use of the pigs. At this some of
the other animals murmured, but it was no use. All the pigs were in full
agreement on this point, even Snowball and Napoleon. Squealer was sent to
make the necessary explanations to the others.
des!" he cried. "You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are doing
this in a spirit of selfishness and privilege? Many of us actually dislike
milk and apples. I dislike them myself. Our sole object in taking these
things is to preserve our health. Milk and apples (this has been proved by
Science, comrades) contain substances absolutely necessary to the
well-being of a pig. We pigs are brainworkers. The whole management and
organisation of this farm depend on us. Day and night we are watching over
is for YOUR sake that we drink that milk and eat those
apples. Do you know what would happen if we pigs failed in our duty? Jones
would come back! Yes, Jones would come back! Surely, comrades," cried
Squealer almost pleadingly, skipping from side to side and whisking his
tail, "surely there is no one among you who wants to see Jones come back?"
Now if there was one thing that the animals were completely certain of, it
was that they did not want Jones back. When it was put to them in this
light, they had no more toM
 say. The importance of keeping the pigs in good
health was all too obvious. So it was agreed without further argument that
the milk and the windfall apples (and also the main crop of apples when
they ripened) should be reserved for the pigs alone.
By the late summer the news of what had happened on Animal Farm had spread
across half the county. Every day Snowball and Napoleon sent out flights
of pigeons whose instructions were to mingle with the animals on
neighbouring farms, tell them the story M
of the Rebellion, and teach them
the tune of 'Beasts of England'.
Most of this time Mr. Jones had spent sitting in the taproom of the Red
Lion at Willingdon, complaining to anyone who would listen of the
monstrous injustice he had suffered in being turned out of his property by
a pack of good-for-nothing animals. The other farmers sympathised in
principle, but they did not at first give him much help. At heart, each of
them was secretly wondering whether he could not somehow turn Jones's
misfortune to his own advaM
ntage. It was lucky that the owners of the two
farms which adjoined Animal Farm were on permanently bad terms. One of
them, which was named Foxwood, was a large, neglected, old-fashioned farm,
much overgrown by woodland, with all its pastures worn out and its hedges
in a disgraceful condition. Its owner, Mr. Pilkington, was an easy-going
gentleman farmer who spent most of his time in fishing or hunting
according to the season. The other farm, which was called Pinchfield, was
smaller and better kept. Its owner was aM
 Mr. Frederick, a tough, shrewd
man, perpetually involved in lawsuits and with a name for driving hard
bargains. These two disliked each other so much that it was difficult for
them to come to any agreement, even in defence of their own interests.
Nevertheless, they were both thoroughly frightened by the rebellion on
Animal Farm, and very anxious to prevent their own animals from learning
too much about it. At first they pretended to laugh to scorn the idea of
animals managing a farm for themselves. The whole thinM
g would be over in a
fortnight, they said. They put it about that the animals on the Manor Farm
(they insisted on calling it the Manor Farm; they would not tolerate the
name "Animal Farm") were perpetually fighting among themselves and were
also rapidly starving to death. When time passed and the animals had
evidently not starved to death, Frederick and Pilkington changed their
tune and began to talk of the terrible wickedness that now flourished on
Animal Farm. It was given out that the animals there practised canM
tortured one another with red-hot horseshoes, and had their females in
common. This was what came of rebelling against the laws of Nature,
Frederick and Pilkington said.
However, these stories were never fully believed. Rumours of a wonderful
farm, where the human beings had been turned out and the animals managed
their own affairs, continued to circulate in vague and distorted forms,
and throughout that year a wave of rebelliousness ran through the
countryside. Bulls which had always been tractable suddM
sheep broke down hedges and devoured the clover, cows kicked the pail
over, hunters refused their fences and shot their riders on to the other
side. Above all, the tune and even the words of 'Beasts of England' were
known everywhere. It had spread with astonishing speed. The human beings
could not contain their rage when they heard this song, though they
pretended to think it merely ridiculous. They could not understand, they
said, how even animals could bring themselves to sing such contemptiblM
rubbish. Any animal caught singing it was given a flogging on the spot.
And yet the song was irrepressible. The blackbirds whistled it in the
hedges, the pigeons cooed it in the elms, it got into the din of the
smithies and the tune of the church bells. And when the human beings
listened to it, they secretly trembled, hearing in it a prophecy of their
Early in October, when the corn was cut and stacked and some of it was
already threshed, a flight of pigeons came whirling through the air and
d in the yard of Animal Farm in the wildest excitement. Jones and
all his men, with half a dozen others from Foxwood and Pinchfield, had
entered the five-barred gate and were coming up the cart-track that led to
the farm. They were all carrying sticks, except Jones, who was marching
ahead with a gun in his hands. Obviously they were going to attempt the
recapture of the farm.
This had long been expected, and all preparations had been made. Snowball,
who had studied an old book of Julius Caesar's campaigns which heM
found in the farmhouse, was in charge of the defensive operations. He gave
his orders quickly, and in a couple of minutes every animal was at his
As the human beings approached the farm buildings, Snowball launched his
first attack. All the pigeons, to the number of thirty-five, flew to and
fro over the men's heads and muted upon them from mid-air; and while the
men were dealing with this, the geese, who had been hiding behind the
hedge, rushed out and pecked viciously at the calves of their legs.
er, this was only a light skirmishing manoeuvre, intended to create a
little disorder, and the men easily drove the geese off with their sticks.
Snowball now launched his second line of attack. Muriel, Benjamin, and all
the sheep, with Snowball at the head of them, rushed forward and prodded
and butted the men from every side, while Benjamin turned around and
lashed at them with his small hoofs. But once again the men, with their
sticks and their hobnailed boots, were too strong for them; and suddenly,
from Snowball, which was the signal for retreat, all the
animals turned and fled through the gateway into the yard.
The men gave a shout of triumph. They saw, as they imagined, their enemies
in flight, and they rushed after them in disorder. This was just what
Snowball had intended. As soon as they were well inside the yard, the
three horses, the three cows, and the rest of the pigs, who had been lying
in ambush in the cowshed, suddenly emerged in their rear, cutting them
off. Snowball now gave the signal for the M
charge. He himself dashed
straight for Jones. Jones saw him coming, raised his gun and fired. The
pellets scored bloody streaks along Snowball's back, and a sheep dropped
dead. Without halting for an instant, Snowball flung his fifteen stone
against Jones's legs. Jones was hurled into a pile of dung and his gun
flew out of his hands. But the most terrifying spectacle of all was Boxer,
rearing up on his hind legs and striking out with his great iron-shod
hoofs like a stallion. His very first blow took a stable-lad fM
on the skull and stretched him lifeless in the mud. At the sight, several
men dropped their sticks and tried to run. Panic overtook them, and the
next moment all the animals together were chasing them round and round the
yard. They were gored, kicked, bitten, trampled on. There was not an
animal on the farm that did not take vengeance on them after his own
fashion. Even the cat suddenly leapt off a roof onto a cowman's shoulders
and sank her claws in his neck, at which he yelled horribly. At a moment
en the opening was clear, the men were glad enough to rush out of the
yard and make a bolt for the main road. And so within five minutes of
their invasion they were in ignominious retreat by the same way as they
had come, with a flock of geese hissing after them and pecking at their
All the men were gone except one. Back in the yard Boxer was pawing with
his hoof at the stable-lad who lay face down in the mud, trying to turn
him over. The boy did not stir.
"He is dead," said Boxer sorrowfully.M
 "I had no intention of doing that.
I forgot that I was wearing iron shoes. Who will believe that I did not do
"No sentimentality, comrade!" cried Snowball from whose wounds the blood
was still dripping. "War is war. The only good human being is a dead one."
"I have no wish to take life, not even human life," repeated Boxer, and
his eyes were full of tears.
"Where is Mollie?" exclaimed somebody.
Mollie in fact was missing. For a moment there was great alarm; it was
feared that the men might haM
ve harmed her in some way, or even carried her
off with them. In the end, however, she was found hiding in her stall with
her head buried among the hay in the manger. She had taken to flight as
soon as the gun went off. And when the others came back from looking for
her, it was to find that the stable-lad, who in fact was only stunned, had
already recovered and made off.
The animals had now reassembled in the wildest excitement, each recounting
his own exploits in the battle at the top of his voice. An impromptu
elebration of the victory was held immediately. The flag was run up and
'Beasts of England' was sung a number of times, then the sheep who had been
killed was given a solemn funeral, a hawthorn bush being planted on her
grave. At the graveside Snowball made a little speech, emphasising the
need for all animals to be ready to die for Animal Farm if need be.
The animals decided unanimously to create a military decoration, "Animal
Hero, First Class," which was conferred there and then on Snowball and
ted of a brass medal (they were really some old
horse-brasses which had been found in the harness-room), to be worn on
Sundays and holidays. There was also "Animal Hero, Second Class," which
was conferred posthumously on the dead sheep.
There was much discussion as to what the battle should be called. In the
end, it was named the Battle of the Cowshed, since that was where the
ambush had been sprung. Mr. Jones's gun had been found lying in the mud,
and it was known that there was a supply of cartridges in the farmM
It was decided to set the gun up at the foot of the Flagstaff, like a
piece of artillery, and to fire it twice a year--once on October the
twelfth, the anniversary of the Battle of the Cowshed, and once on
Midsummer Day, the anniversary of the Rebellion.
As winter drew on, Mollie became more and more troublesome. She was late
for work every morning and excused herself by saying that she had
overslept, and she complained of mysterious pains, although her appetite
was excellent. On every kind M
of pretext she would run away from work and
go to the drinking pool, where she would stand foolishly gazing at her own
reflection in the water. But there were also rumours of something more
serious. One day, as Mollie strolled blithely into the yard, flirting her
long tail and chewing at a stalk of hay, Clover took her aside.
"Mollie," she said, "I have something very serious to say to you. This
morning I saw you looking over the hedge that divides Animal Farm from
Foxwood. One of Mr. Pilkington's men was standingM
 on the other side of the
hedge. And--I was a long way away, but I am almost certain I saw this--he
was talking to you and you were allowing him to stroke your nose. What
does that mean, Mollie?"
"He didn't! I wasn't! It isn't true!" cried Mollie, beginning to prance
about and paw the ground.
"Mollie! Look me in the face. Do you give me your word of honour that that
man was not stroking your nose?"
"It isn't true!" repeated Mollie, but she could not look Clover in the
face, and the next moment she took to her heM
els and galloped away into the
A thought struck Clover. Without saying anything to the others, she went
to Mollie's stall and turned over the straw with her hoof. Hidden under
the straw was a little pile of lump sugar and several bunches of ribbon of
Three days later Mollie disappeared. For some weeks nothing was known of
her whereabouts, then the pigeons reported that they had seen her on the
other side of Willingdon. She was between the shafts of a smart dogcart
painted red and black, M
which was standing outside a public-house. A fat
red-faced man in check breeches and gaiters, who looked like a publican,
was stroking her nose and feeding her with sugar. Her coat was newly
clipped and she wore a scarlet ribbon round her forelock. She appeared to
be enjoying herself, so the pigeons said. None of the animals ever
mentioned Mollie again.
In January there came bitterly hard weather. The earth was like iron, and
nothing could be done in the fields. Many meetings were held in the big
s occupied themselves with planning out the work of the
coming season. It had come to be accepted that the pigs, who were
manifestly cleverer than the other animals, should decide all questions of
farm policy, though their decisions had to be ratified by a majority vote.
This arrangement would have worked well enough if it had not been for the
disputes between Snowball and Napoleon. These two disagreed at every point
where disagreement was possible. If one of them suggested sowing a bigger
acreage with barley, the M
other was certain to demand a bigger acreage of
oats, and if one of them said that such and such a field was just right
for cabbages, the other would declare that it was useless for anything
except roots. Each had his own following, and there were some violent
debates. At the Meetings Snowball often won over the majority by his
brilliant speeches, but Napoleon was better at canvassing support for
himself in between times. He was especially successful with the sheep. Of
late the sheep had taken to bleating "Four legM
s good, two legs bad" both
in and out of season, and they often interrupted the Meeting with this. It
was noticed that they were especially liable to break into "Four legs
good, two legs bad" at crucial moments in Snowball's speeches. Snowball
had made a close study of some back numbers of the 'Farmer and
Stockbreeder' which he had found in the farmhouse, and was full of plans
for innovations and improvements. He talked learnedly about field drains,
silage, and basic slag, and had worked out a complicated scheme foM
the animals to drop their dung directly in the fields, at a different spot
every day, to save the labour of cartage. Napoleon produced no schemes of
his own, but said quietly that Snowball's would come to nothing, and
seemed to be biding his time. But of all their controversies, none was so
bitter as the one that took place over the windmill.
In the long pasture, not far from the farm buildings, there was a small
knoll which was the highest point on the farm. After surveying the ground,
Snowball declared thaM
t this was just the place for a windmill, which could
be made to operate a dynamo and supply the farm with electrical power.
This would light the stalls and warm them in winter, and would also run a
circular saw, a chaff-cutter, a mangel-slicer, and an electric milking
machine. The animals had never heard of anything of this kind before
(for the farm was an old-fashioned one and had only the most primitive
machinery), and they listened in astonishment while Snowball conjured up
pictures of fantastic machines which M
would do their work for them while
they grazed at their ease in the fields or improved their minds with
reading and conversation.
Within a few weeks Snowball's plans for the windmill were fully worked
out. The mechanical details came mostly from three books which had
belonged to Mr. Jones--'One Thousand Useful Things to Do About the House',
'Every Man His Own Bricklayer', and 'Electricity for Beginners'. Snowball
used as his study a shed which had once been used for incubators and had a
smooth wooden floor, suitabM
le for drawing on. He was closeted there for
hours at a time. With his books held open by a stone, and with a piece of
chalk gripped between the knuckles of his trotter, he would move rapidly
to and fro, drawing in line after line and uttering little whimpers of
excitement. Gradually the plans grew into a complicated mass of cranks and
cog-wheels, covering more than half the floor, which the other animals
found completely unintelligible but very impressive. All of them came to
look at Snowball's drawings at least oM
nce a day. Even the hens and ducks
came, and were at pains not to tread on the chalk marks. Only Napoleon
held aloof. He had declared himself against the windmill from the start.
One day, however, he arrived unexpectedly to examine the plans. He walked
heavily round the shed, looked closely at every detail of the plans and
snuffed at them once or twice, then stood for a little while contemplating
them out of the corner of his eye; then suddenly he lifted his leg,
urinated over the plans, and walked out without utteM
The whole farm was deeply divided on the subject of the windmill. Snowball
did not deny that to build it would be a difficult business. Stone would
have to be carried and built up into walls, then the sails would have to
be made and after that there would be need for dynamos and cables. (How
these were to be procured, Snowball did not say.) But he maintained that
it could all be done in a year. And thereafter, he declared, so much
labour would be saved that the animals would only need to work three daM
a week. Napoleon, on the other hand, argued that the great need of the
moment was to increase food production, and that if they wasted time on
the windmill they would all starve to death. The animals formed themselves
into two factions under the slogan, "Vote for Snowball and the three-day
week" and "Vote for Napoleon and the full manger." Benjamin was the only
animal who did not side with either faction. He refused to believe either
that food would become more plentiful or that the windmill would save
dmill or no windmill, he said, life would go on as it had always
gone on--that is, badly.
Apart from the disputes over the windmill, there was the question of the
defence of the farm. It was fully realised that though the human beings
had been defeated in the Battle of the Cowshed they might make another and
more determined attempt to recapture the farm and reinstate Mr. Jones.
They had all the more reason for doing so because the news of their defeat
had spread across the countryside and made the animals on the nM
farms more restive than ever. As usual, Snowball and Napoleon were in
disagreement. According to Napoleon, what the animals must do was to
procure firearms and train themselves in the use of them. According to
Snowball, they must send out more and more pigeons and stir up rebellion
among the animals on the other farms. The one argued that if they could
not defend themselves they were bound to be conquered, the other argued
that if rebellions happened everywhere they would have no need to defend
es. The animals listened first to Napoleon, then to Snowball, and
could not make up their minds which was right; indeed, they always found
themselves in agreement with the one who was speaking at the moment.
At last the day came when Snowball's plans were completed. At the Meeting
on the following Sunday the question of whether or not to begin work on
the windmill was to be put to the vote. When the animals had assembled in
the big barn, Snowball stood up and, though occasionally interrupted by
bleating from the sM
heep, set forth his reasons for advocating the building
of the windmill. Then Napoleon stood up to reply. He said very quietly
that the windmill was nonsense and that he advised nobody to vote for it,
and promptly sat down again; he had spoken for barely thirty seconds, and
seemed almost indifferent as to the effect he produced. At this Snowball
sprang to his feet, and shouting down the sheep, who had begun bleating
again, broke into a passionate appeal in favour of the windmill. Until now
the animals had been abouM
t equally divided in their sympathies, but in a
moment Snowball's eloquence had carried them away. In glowing sentences he
painted a picture of Animal Farm as it might be when sordid labour was
lifted from the animals' backs. His imagination had now run far beyond
chaff-cutters and turnip-slicers. Electricity, he said, could operate
threshing machines, ploughs, harrows, rollers, and reapers and binders,
besides supplying every stall with its own electric light, hot and cold
water, and an electric heater. By the timM
e he had finished speaking, there
was no doubt as to which way the vote would go. But just at this moment
Napoleon stood up and, casting a peculiar sidelong look at Snowball,
uttered a high-pitched whimper of a kind no one had ever heard him utter
At this there was a terrible baying sound outside, and nine enormous dogs
wearing brass-studded collars came bounding into the barn. They dashed
straight for Snowball, who only sprang from his place just in time to
escape their snapping jaws. In a moment he was oM
ut of the door and they
were after him. Too amazed and frightened to speak, all the animals
crowded through the door to watch the chase. Snowball was racing across
the long pasture that led to the road. He was running as only a pig can
run, but the dogs were close on his heels. Suddenly he slipped and it
seemed certain that they had him. Then he was up again, running faster
than ever, then the dogs were gaining on him again. One of them all but
closed his jaws on Snowball's tail, but Snowball whisked it free just iM
time. Then he put on an extra spurt and, with a few inches to spare,
slipped through a hole in the hedge and was seen no more.
Silent and terrified, the animals crept back into the barn. In a moment
the dogs came bounding back. At first no one had been able to imagine
where these creatures came from, but the problem was soon solved: they
were the puppies whom Napoleon had taken away from their mothers and
reared privately. Though not yet full-grown, they were huge dogs, and as
fierce-looking as wolves. They keptM
 close to Napoleon. It was noticed that
they wagged their tails to him in the same way as the other dogs had been
used to do to Mr. Jones.
Napoleon, with the dogs following him, now mounted on to the raised
portion of the floor where Major had previously stood to deliver his
speech. He announced that from now on the Sunday-morning Meetings would
come to an end. They were unnecessary, he said, and wasted time. In future
all questions relating to the working of the farm would be settled by a
special committee of pigM
s, presided over by himself. These would meet in
private and afterwards communicate their decisions to the others. The
animals would still assemble on Sunday mornings to salute the flag, sing
'Beasts of England', and receive their orders for the week; but there would
In spite of the shock that Snowball's expulsion had given them, the
animals were dismayed by this announcement. Several of them would have
protested if they could have found the right arguments. Even Boxer was
vaguely troubled. He M
set his ears back, shook his forelock several times,
and tried hard to marshal his thoughts; but in the end he could not think
of anything to say. Some of the pigs themselves, however, were more
articulate. Four young porkers in the front row uttered shrill squeals of
disapproval, and all four of them sprang to their feet and began speaking
at once. But suddenly the dogs sitting round Napoleon let out deep,
menacing growls, and the pigs fell silent and sat down again. Then the
sheep broke out into a tremendous bleaM
ting of "Four legs good, two legs
bad!" which went on for nearly a quarter of an hour and put an end to any
chance of discussion.
Afterwards Squealer was sent round the farm to explain the new arrangement
"Comrades," he said, "I trust that every animal here appreciates the
sacrifice that Comrade Napoleon has made in taking this extra labour upon
himself. Do not imagine, comrades, that leadership is a pleasure! On the
contrary, it is a deep and heavy responsibility. No one believes more
Comrade Napoleon that all animals are equal. He would be only
too happy to let you make your decisions for yourselves. But sometimes you
might make the wrong decisions, comrades, and then where should we be?
Suppose you had decided to follow Snowball, with his moonshine of
windmills--Snowball, who, as we now know, was no better than a criminal?"
"He fought bravely at the Battle of the Cowshed," said somebody.
"Bravery is not enough," said Squealer. "Loyalty and obedience are more
important. And as to the Battle oM
f the Cowshed, I believe the time will
come when we shall find that Snowball's part in it was much exaggerated.
Discipline, comrades, iron discipline! That is the watchword for today.
One false step, and our enemies would be upon us. Surely, comrades, you do
not want Jones back?"
Once again this argument was unanswerable. Certainly the animals did not
want Jones back; if the holding of debates on Sunday mornings was liable
to bring him back, then the debates must stop. Boxer, who had now had time
ver, voiced the general feeling by saying: "If Comrade
Napoleon says it, it must be right." And from then on he adopted the
maxim, "Napoleon is always right," in addition to his private motto of "I
By this time the weather had broken and the spring ploughing had begun.
The shed where Snowball had drawn his plans of the windmill had been shut
up and it was assumed that the plans had been rubbed off the floor. Every
Sunday morning at ten o'clock the animals assembled in the big barn to
ir orders for the week. The skull of old Major, now clean of
flesh, had been disinterred from the orchard and set up on a stump at the
foot of the flagstaff, beside the gun. After the hoisting of the flag, the
animals were required to file past the skull in a reverent manner before
entering the barn. Nowadays they did not sit all together as they had done
in the past. Napoleon, with Squealer and another pig named Minimus, who
had a remarkable gift for composing songs and poems, sat on the front of
rm, with the nine young dogs forming a semicircle round
them, and the other pigs sitting behind. The rest of the animals sat
facing them in the main body of the barn. Napoleon read out the orders for
the week in a gruff soldierly style, and after a single singing of 'Beasts
of England', all the animals dispersed.
On the third Sunday after Snowball's expulsion, the animals were somewhat
surprised to hear Napoleon announce that the windmill was to be built
after all. He did not give any reason for having changed hisM
merely warned the animals that this extra task would mean very hard work,
it might even be necessary to reduce their rations. The plans, however,
had all been prepared, down to the last detail. A special committee of
pigs had been at work upon them for the past three weeks. The building of
the windmill, with various other improvements, was expected to take two
That evening Squealer explained privately to the other animals that
Napoleon had never in reality been opposed to the windmill. On the
trary, it was he who had advocated it in the beginning, and the plan
which Snowball had drawn on the floor of the incubator shed had actually
been stolen from among Napoleon's papers. The windmill was, in fact,
Napoleon's own creation. Why, then, asked somebody, had he spoken so
strongly against it? Here Squealer looked very sly. That, he said, was
Comrade Napoleon's cunning. He had SEEMED to oppose the windmill, simply
as a manoeuvre to get rid of Snowball, who was a dangerous character and a
bad influence. Now thM
at Snowball was out of the way, the plan could go
forward without his interference. This, said Squealer, was something
called tactics. He repeated a number of times, "Tactics, comrades,
tactics!" skipping round and whisking his tail with a merry laugh. The
animals were not certain what the word meant, but Squealer spoke so
persuasively, and the three dogs who happened to be with him growled so
threateningly, that they accepted his explanation without further
All that year the animals woM
rked like slaves. But they were happy in their
work; they grudged no effort or sacrifice, well aware that everything that
they did was for the benefit of themselves and those of their kind who
would come after them, and not for a pack of idle, thieving human beings.
Throughout the spring and summer they worked a sixty-hour week, and in
August Napoleon announced that there would be work on Sunday afternoons
as well. This work was strictly voluntary, but any animal who absented
himself from it would have his rationsM
 reduced by half. Even so, it was
found necessary to leave certain tasks undone. The harvest was a little
less successful than in the previous year, and two fields which should
have been sown with roots in the early summer were not sown because the
ploughing had not been completed early enough. It was possible to foresee
that the coming winter would be a hard one.
The windmill presented unexpected difficulties. There was a good quarry of
limestone on the farm, and plenty of sand and cement had been found in one
 the outhouses, so that all the materials for building were at hand. But
the problem the animals could not at first solve was how to break up the
stone into pieces of suitable size. There seemed no way of doing this
except with picks and crowbars, which no animal could use, because no
animal could stand on his hind legs. Only after weeks of vain effort did
the right idea occur to somebody-namely, to utilise the force of gravity.
Huge boulders, far too big to be used as they were, were lying all over
quarry. The animals lashed ropes round these, and then all
together, cows, horses, sheep, any animal that could lay hold of the
rope--even the pigs sometimes joined in at critical moments--they dragged
them with desperate slowness up the slope to the top of the quarry, where
they were toppled over the edge, to shatter to pieces below. Transporting
the stone when it was once broken was comparatively simple. The horses
carried it off in cart-loads, the sheep dragged single blocks, even Muriel
and Benjamin yoked themsM
elves into an old governess-cart and did their
share. By late summer a sufficient store of stone had accumulated, and
then the building began, under the superintendence of the pigs.
But it was a slow, laborious process. Frequently it took a whole day of
exhausting effort to drag a single boulder to the top of the quarry, and
sometimes when it was pushed over the edge it failed to break. Nothing
could have been achieved without Boxer, whose strength seemed equal to
that of all the rest of the animals put together. M
When the boulder began
to slip and the animals cried out in despair at finding themselves dragged
down the hill, it was always Boxer who strained himself against the rope
and brought the boulder to a stop. To see him toiling up the slope inch by
inch, his breath coming fast, the tips of his hoofs clawing at the ground,
and his great sides matted with sweat, filled everyone with admiration.
Clover warned him sometimes to be careful not to overstrain himself, but
Boxer would never listen to her. His two slogans, "I wM
and "Napoleon is always right," seemed to him a sufficient answer to all
problems. He had made arrangements with the cockerel to call him
three-quarters of an hour earlier in the mornings instead of half an hour.
And in his spare moments, of which there were not many nowadays, he would
go alone to the quarry, collect a load of broken stone, and drag it down
to the site of the windmill unassisted.
The animals were not badly off throughout that summer, in spite of the
hardness of their work. If theyM
 had no more food than they had had in
Jones's day, at least they did not have less. The advantage of only having
to feed themselves, and not having to support five extravagant human
beings as well, was so great that it would have taken a lot of failures to
outweigh it. And in many ways the animal method of doing things was more
efficient and saved labour. Such jobs as weeding, for instance, could be
done with a thoroughness impossible to human beings. And again, since no
animal now stole, it was unnecessary to fenM
ce off pasture from arable
land, which saved a lot of labour on the upkeep of hedges and gates.
Nevertheless, as the summer wore on, various unforeseen shortages began to
make them selves felt. There was need of paraffin oil, nails, string, dog
biscuits, and iron for the horses' shoes, none of which could be produced
on the farm. Later there would also be need for seeds and artificial
manures, besides various tools and, finally, the machinery for the
windmill. How these were to be procured, no one was able to imagiM
One Sunday morning, when the animals assembled to receive their orders,
Napoleon announced that he had decided upon a new policy. From now onwards
Animal Farm would engage in trade with the neighbouring farms: not, of
course, for any commercial purpose, but simply in order to obtain certain
materials which were urgently necessary. The needs of the windmill must
override everything else, he said. He was therefore making arrangements to
sell a stack of hay and part of the current year's wheat crop, and later
 if more money were needed, it would have to be made up by the sale of
eggs, for which there was always a market in Willingdon. The hens, said
Napoleon, should welcome this sacrifice as their own special contribution
towards the building of the windmill.
Once again the animals were conscious of a vague uneasiness. Never to have
any dealings with human beings, never to engage in trade, never to make
use of money--had not these been among the earliest resolutions passed at
that first triumphant Meeting after Jones wM
as expelled? All the animals
remembered passing such resolutions: or at least they thought that they
remembered it. The four young pigs who had protested when Napoleon
abolished the Meetings raised their voices timidly, but they were promptly
silenced by a tremendous growling from the dogs. Then, as usual, the sheep
broke into "Four legs good, two legs bad!" and the momentary awkwardness
was smoothed over. Finally Napoleon raised his trotter for silence and
announced that he had already made all the arrangements. TM
need for any of the animals to come in contact with human beings, which
would clearly be most undesirable. He intended to take the whole burden
upon his own shoulders. A Mr. Whymper, a solicitor living in Willingdon,
had agreed to act as intermediary between Animal Farm and the outside
world, and would visit the farm every Monday morning to receive his
instructions. Napoleon ended his speech with his usual cry of "Long live
Animal Farm!" and after the singing of 'Beasts of England' the animals
Afterwards Squealer made a round of the farm and set the animals' minds at
rest. He assured them that the resolution against engaging in trade and
using money had never been passed, or even suggested. It was pure
imagination, probably traceable in the beginning to lies circulated by
Snowball. A few animals still felt faintly doubtful, but Squealer asked
them shrewdly, "Are you certain that this is not something that you have
dreamed, comrades? Have you any record of such a resolution? Is it written
n anywhere?" And since it was certainly true that nothing of the kind
existed in writing, the animals were satisfied that they had been mistaken.
Every Monday Mr. Whymper visited the farm as had been arranged. He was a
sly-looking little man with side whiskers, a solicitor in a very small way
of business, but sharp enough to have realised earlier than anyone else
that Animal Farm would need a broker and that the commissions would be
worth having. The animals watched his coming and going with a kind of
voided him as much as possible. Nevertheless, the sight of
Napoleon, on all fours, delivering orders to Whymper, who stood on two
legs, roused their pride and partly reconciled them to the new
arrangement. Their relations with the human race were now not quite the
same as they had been before. The human beings did not hate Animal Farm
any less now that it was prospering; indeed, they hated it more than ever.
Every human being held it as an article of faith that the farm would go
bankrupt sooner or later, and, aboveM
 all, that the windmill would be a
failure. They would meet in the public-houses and prove to one another by
means of diagrams that the windmill was bound to fall down, or that if it
did stand up, then that it would never work. And yet, against their will,
they had developed a certain respect for the efficiency with which the
animals were managing their own affairs. One symptom of this was that they
had begun to call Animal Farm by its proper name and ceased to pretend
that it was called the Manor Farm. They had alM
so dropped their championship
of Jones, who had given up hope of getting his farm back and gone to live
in another part of the county. Except through Whymper, there was as yet no
contact between Animal Farm and the outside world, but there were constant
rumours that Napoleon was about to enter into a definite business agreement
either with Mr. Pilkington of Foxwood or with Mr. Frederick of
Pinchfield--but never, it was noticed, with both simultaneously.
It was about this time that the pigs suddenly moved into the M
took up their residence there. Again the animals seemed to remember that a
resolution against this had been passed in the early days, and again
Squealer was able to convince them that this was not the case. It was
absolutely necessary, he said, that the pigs, who were the brains of the
farm, should have a quiet place to work in. It was also more suited to the
dignity of the Leader (for of late he had taken to speaking of Napoleon
under the title of "Leader") to live in a house than in a mere sty.
rtheless, some of the animals were disturbed when they heard that the
pigs not only took their meals in the kitchen and used the drawing-room
as a recreation room, but also slept in the beds. Boxer passed it off as
usual with "Napoleon is always right!", but Clover, who thought she
remembered a definite ruling against beds, went to the end of the barn and
tried to puzzle out the Seven Commandments which were inscribed there.
Finding herself unable to read more than individual letters, she fetched
 she said, "read me the Fourth Commandment. Does it not say
something about never sleeping in a bed?"
With some difficulty Muriel spelt it out.
"It says, 'No animal shall sleep in a bed with sheets,"' she announced
Curiously enough, Clover had not remembered that the Fourth Commandment
mentioned sheets; but as it was there on the wall, it must have done so.
And Squealer, who happened to be passing at this moment, attended by two
or three dogs, was able to put the whole matter in its proper perspective.
"You have heard then, comrades," he said, "that we pigs now sleep in the
beds of the farmhouse? And why not? You did not suppose, surely, that
there was ever a ruling against beds? A bed merely means a place to sleep
in. A pile of straw in a stall is a bed, properly regarded. The rule was
against sheets, which are a human invention. We have removed the sheets
from the farmhouse beds, and sleep between blankets. And very comfortable
beds they are too! But not more comfortable than we need, I can tell you,
 with all the brainwork we have to do nowadays. You would not rob
us of our repose, would you, comrades? You would not have us too tired to
carry out our duties? Surely none of you wishes to see Jones back?"
The animals reassured him on this point immediately, and no more was said
about the pigs sleeping in the farmhouse beds. And when, some days
afterwards, it was announced that from now on the pigs would get up an
hour later in the mornings than the other animals, no complaint was made
 autumn the animals were tired but happy. They had had a hard year,
and after the sale of part of the hay and corn, the stores of food for the
winter were none too plentiful, but the windmill compensated for
everything. It was almost half built now. After the harvest there was a
stretch of clear dry weather, and the animals toiled harder than ever,
thinking it well worth while to plod to and fro all day with blocks of
stone if by doing so they could raise the walls another foot. Boxer would
even come out at nights M
and work for an hour or two on his own by the
light of the harvest moon. In their spare moments the animals would walk
round and round the half-finished mill, admiring the strength and
perpendicularity of its walls and marvelling that they should ever have
been able to build anything so imposing. Only old Benjamin refused to grow
enthusiastic about the windmill, though, as usual, he would utter nothing
beyond the cryptic remark that donkeys live a long time.
November came, with raging south-west winds. Building haM
it was now too wet to mix the cement. Finally there came a night when the
gale was so violent that the farm buildings rocked on their foundations
and several tiles were blown off the roof of the barn. The hens woke up
squawking with terror because they had all dreamed simultaneously of
hearing a gun go off in the distance. In the morning the animals came out
of their stalls to find that the flagstaff had been blown down and an elm
tree at the foot of the orchard had been plucked up like a radish. M
had just noticed this when a cry of despair broke from every animal's
throat. A terrible sight had met their eyes. The windmill was in ruins.
With one accord they dashed down to the spot. Napoleon, who seldom moved
out of a walk, raced ahead of them all. Yes, there it lay, the fruit of
all their struggles, levelled to its foundations, the stones they had
broken and carried so laboriously scattered all around. Unable at first to
speak, they stood gazing mournfully at the litter of fallen stone. Napoleon
to and fro in silence, occasionally snuffing at the ground. His tail
had grown rigid and twitched sharply from side to side, a sign in him of
intense mental activity. Suddenly he halted as though his mind were
"Comrades," he said quietly, "do you know who is responsible for this? Do
you know the enemy who has come in the night and overthrown our windmill?
SNOWBALL!" he suddenly roared in a voice of thunder. "Snowball has done
this thing! In sheer malignity, thinking to set back our plans and avenge
f for his ignominious expulsion, this traitor has crept here under
cover of night and destroyed our work of nearly a year. Comrades, here
and now I pronounce the death sentence upon Snowball. 'Animal Hero, Second
Class,' and half a bushel of apples to any animal who brings him to
justice. A full bushel to anyone who captures him alive!"
The animals were shocked beyond measure to learn that even Snowball could
be guilty of such an action. There was a cry of indignation, and everyone
began thinking out ways of catchM
ing Snowball if he should ever come back.
Almost immediately the footprints of a pig were discovered in the grass at
a little distance from the knoll. They could only be traced for a few
yards, but appeared to lead to a hole in the hedge. Napoleon snuffed
deeply at them and pronounced them to be Snowball's. He gave it as his
opinion that Snowball had probably come from the direction of Foxwood Farm.
"No more delays, comrades!" cried Napoleon when the footprints had been
examined. "There is work to be done. This veM
ry morning we begin rebuilding
the windmill, and we will build all through the winter, rain or shine. We
will teach this miserable traitor that he cannot undo our work so easily.
Remember, comrades, there must be no alteration in our plans: they shall
be carried out to the day. Forward, comrades! Long live the windmill! Long
It was a bitter winter. The stormy weather was followed by sleet and snow,
and then by a hard frost which did not break till well into February. The
s carried on as best they could with the rebuilding of the windmill,
well knowing that the outside world was watching them and that the envious
human beings would rejoice and triumph if the mill were not finished
Out of spite, the human beings pretended not to believe that it was
Snowball who had destroyed the windmill: they said that it had fallen down
because the walls were too thin. The animals knew that this was not the
case. Still, it had been decided to build the walls three feet thick this
tead of eighteen inches as before, which meant collecting much
larger quantities of stone. For a long time the quarry was full of
snowdrifts and nothing could be done. Some progress was made in the dry
frosty weather that followed, but it was cruel work, and the animals could
not feel so hopeful about it as they had felt before. They were always
cold, and usually hungry as well. Only Boxer and Clover never lost heart.
Squealer made excellent speeches on the joy of service and the dignity of
labour, but the other anM
imals found more inspiration in Boxer's strength
and his never-failing cry of "I will work harder!"
In January food fell short. The corn ration was drastically reduced, and
it was announced that an extra potato ration would be issued to make up
for it. Then it was discovered that the greater part of the potato crop
had been frosted in the clamps, which had not been covered thickly enough.
The potatoes had become soft and discoloured, and only a few were edible.
For days at a time the animals had nothing to eat butM
Starvation seemed to stare them in the face.
It was vitally necessary to conceal this fact from the outside world.
Emboldened by the collapse of the windmill, the human beings were
inventing fresh lies about Animal Farm. Once again it was being put about
that all the animals were dying of famine and disease, and that they were
continually fighting among themselves and had resorted to cannibalism and
infanticide. Napoleon was well aware of the bad results that might follow
if the real facts of tM
he food situation were known, and he decided to make
use of Mr. Whymper to spread a contrary impression. Hitherto the animals
had had little or no contact with Whymper on his weekly visits: now,
however, a few selected animals, mostly sheep, were instructed to remark
casually in his hearing that rations had been increased. In addition,
Napoleon ordered the almost empty bins in the store-shed to be filled
nearly to the brim with sand, which was then covered up with what remained
of the grain and meal. On some suitabM
le pretext Whymper was led through
the store-shed and allowed to catch a glimpse of the bins. He was
deceived, and continued to report to the outside world that there was no
food shortage on Animal Farm.
Nevertheless, towards the end of January it became obvious that it would
be necessary to procure some more grain from somewhere. In these days
Napoleon rarely appeared in public, but spent all his time in the
farmhouse, which was guarded at each door by fierce-looking dogs. When he
did emerge, it was in a ceremoniM
al manner, with an escort of six dogs who
closely surrounded him and growled if anyone came too near. Frequently he
did not even appear on Sunday mornings, but issued his orders through one
of the other pigs, usually Squealer.
One Sunday morning Squealer announced that the hens, who had just come in
to lay again, must surrender their eggs. Napoleon had accepted, through
Whymper, a contract for four hundred eggs a week. The price of these would
pay for enough grain and meal to keep the farm going till summer came oM
and conditions were easier.
When the hens heard this, they raised a terrible outcry. They had been
warned earlier that this sacrifice might be necessary, but had not
believed that it would really happen. They were just getting their
clutches ready for the spring sitting, and they protested that to take the
eggs away now was murder. For the first time since the expulsion of Jones,
there was something resembling a rebellion. Led by three young Black
Minorca pullets, the hens made a determined effort to thwart NapoM
wishes. Their method was to fly up to the rafters and there lay their
eggs, which smashed to pieces on the floor. Napoleon acted swiftly and
ruthlessly. He ordered the hens' rations to be stopped, and decreed that
any animal giving so much as a grain of corn to a hen should be punished
by death. The dogs saw to it that these orders were carried out. For five
days the hens held out, then they capitulated and went back to their
nesting boxes. Nine hens had died in the meantime. Their bodies were
orchard, and it was given out that they had died of
coccidiosis. Whymper heard nothing of this affair, and the eggs were duly
delivered, a grocer's van driving up to the farm once a week to take them
All this while no more had been seen of Snowball. He was rumoured to be
hiding on one of the neighbouring farms, either Foxwood or Pinchfield.
Napoleon was by this time on slightly better terms with the other farmers
than before. It happened that there was in the yard a pile of timber which
had been stacked therM
e ten years earlier when a beech spinney was cleared.
It was well seasoned, and Whymper had advised Napoleon to sell it; both
Mr. Pilkington and Mr. Frederick were anxious to buy it. Napoleon was
hesitating between the two, unable to make up his mind. It was noticed
that whenever he seemed on the point of coming to an agreement with
Frederick, Snowball was declared to be in hiding at Foxwood, while, when
he inclined toward Pilkington, Snowball was said to be at Pinchfield.
Suddenly, early in the spring, an alarminM
g thing was discovered. Snowball
was secretly frequenting the farm by night! The animals were so disturbed
that they could hardly sleep in their stalls. Every night, it was said, he
came creeping in under cover of darkness and performed all kinds of
mischief. He stole the corn, he upset the milk-pails, he broke the eggs,
he trampled the seedbeds, he gnawed the bark off the fruit trees. Whenever
anything went wrong it became usual to attribute it to Snowball. If a
window was broken or a drain was blocked up, someoneM
that Snowball had come in the night and done it, and when the key of the
store-shed was lost, the whole farm was convinced that Snowball had thrown
it down the well. Curiously enough, they went on believing this even after
the mislaid key was found under a sack of meal. The cows declared
unanimously that Snowball crept into their stalls and milked them in their
sleep. The rats, which had been troublesome that winter, were also said to
be in league with Snowball.
Napoleon decreed that there shouM
ld be a full investigation into Snowball's
activities. With his dogs in attendance he set out and made a careful tour
of inspection of the farm buildings, the other animals following at a
respectful distance. At every few steps Napoleon stopped and snuffed the
ground for traces of Snowball's footsteps, which, he said, he could detect
by the smell. He snuffed in every corner, in the barn, in the cow-shed,
in the henhouses, in the vegetable garden, and found traces of Snowball
almost everywhere. He would put his snouM
t to the ground, give several deep
sniffs, ad exclaim in a terrible voice, "Snowball! He has been here! I can
smell him distinctly!" and at the word "Snowball" all the dogs let out
blood-curdling growls and showed their side teeth.
The animals were thoroughly frightened. It seemed to them as though
Snowball were some kind of invisible influence, pervading the air about
them and menacing them with all kinds of dangers. In the evening Squealer
called them together, and with an alarmed expression on his face told
m that he had some serious news to report.
"Comrades!" cried Squealer, making little nervous skips, "a most terrible
thing has been discovered. Snowball has sold himself to Frederick of
Pinchfield Farm, who is even now plotting to attack us and take our farm
away from us! Snowball is to act as his guide when the attack begins. But
there is worse than that. We had thought that Snowball's rebellion was
caused simply by his vanity and ambition. But we were wrong, comrades. Do
you know what the real reason was? SnowbaM
ll was in league with Jones from
the very start! He was Jones's secret agent all the time. It has all been
proved by documents which he left behind him and which we have only just
discovered. To my mind this explains a great deal, comrades. Did we not
see for ourselves how he attempted--fortunately without success--to get us
defeated and destroyed at the Battle of the Cowshed?"
The animals were stupefied. This was a wickedness far outdoing Snowball's
destruction of the windmill. But it was some minutes before theyM
fully take it in. They all remembered, or thought they remembered, how
they had seen Snowball charging ahead of them at the Battle of the
Cowshed, how he had rallied and encouraged them at every turn, and how he
had not paused for an instant even when the pellets from Jones's gun had
wounded his back. At first it was a little difficult to see how this
fitted in with his being on Jones's side. Even Boxer, who seldom asked
questions, was puzzled. He lay down, tucked his fore hoofs beneath him,
nd with a hard effort managed to formulate his thoughts.
"I do not believe that," he said. "Snowball fought bravely at the Battle
of the Cowshed. I saw him myself. Did we not give him 'Animal Hero, first
Class,' immediately afterwards?"
"That was our mistake, comrade. For we know now--it is all written down in
the secret documents that we have found--that in reality he was trying to
lure us to our doom."
"But he was wounded," said Boxer. "We all saw him running with blood."
"That was part of the arrangement!" cM
ried Squealer. "Jones's shot only
grazed him. I could show you this in his own writing, if you were able to
read it. The plot was for Snowball, at the critical moment, to give the
signal for flight and leave the field to the enemy. And he very nearly
succeeded--I will even say, comrades, he WOULD have succeeded if it had
not been for our heroic Leader, Comrade Napoleon. Do you not remember how,
just at the moment when Jones and his men had got inside the yard,
Snowball suddenly turned and fled, and many animals folM
you not remember, too, that it was just at that moment, when panic was
spreading and all seemed lost, that Comrade Napoleon sprang forward with a
cry of 'Death to Humanity!' and sank his teeth in Jones's leg? Surely you
remember THAT, comrades?" exclaimed Squealer, frisking from side to side.
Now when Squealer described the scene so graphically, it seemed to the
animals that they did remember it. At any rate, they remembered that at
the critical moment of the battle Snowball had turned to flee. BM
was still a little uneasy.
"I do not believe that Snowball was a traitor at the beginning," he said
finally. "What he has done since is different. But I believe that at the
Battle of the Cowshed he was a good comrade."
"Our Leader, Comrade Napoleon," announced Squealer, speaking very slowly
and firmly, "has stated categorically--categorically, comrade--that
Snowball was Jones's agent from the very beginning--yes, and from long
before the Rebellion was ever thought of."
"Ah, that is different!" said BoxeM
r. "If Comrade Napoleon says it, it must
"That is the true spirit, comrade!" cried Squealer, but it was noticed he
cast a very ugly look at Boxer with his little twinkling eyes. He turned
to go, then paused and added impressively: "I warn every animal on this
farm to keep his eyes very wide open. For we have reason to think that
some of Snowball's secret agents are lurking among us at this moment!"
Four days later, in the late afternoon, Napoleon ordered all the animals
to assemble in the yard. When thM
ey were all gathered together, Napoleon
emerged from the farmhouse, wearing both his medals (for he had recently
awarded himself "Animal Hero, First Class", and "Animal Hero, Second
Class"), with his nine huge dogs frisking round him and uttering growls
that sent shivers down all the animals' spines. They all cowered silently
in their places, seeming to know in advance that some terrible thing was
Napoleon stood sternly surveying his audience; then he uttered a
high-pitched whimper. Immediately thM
e dogs bounded forward, seized four of
the pigs by the ear and dragged them, squealing with pain and terror, to
Napoleon's feet. The pigs' ears were bleeding, the dogs had tasted blood,
and for a few moments they appeared to go quite mad. To the amazement of
everybody, three of them flung themselves upon Boxer. Boxer saw them
coming and put out his great hoof, caught a dog in mid-air, and pinned
him to the ground. The dog shrieked for mercy and the other two fled with
their tails between their legs. Boxer looked atM
 Napoleon to know whether
he should crush the dog to death or let it go. Napoleon appeared to change
countenance, and sharply ordered Boxer to let the dog go, whereat Boxer
lifted his hoof, and the dog slunk away, bruised and howling.
Presently the tumult died down. The four pigs waited, trembling, with
guilt written on every line of their countenances. Napoleon now called
upon them to confess their crimes. They were the same four pigs as had
protested when Napoleon abolished the Sunday Meetings. Without any furthM
prompting they confessed that they had been secretly in touch with
Snowball ever since his expulsion, that they had collaborated with him in
destroying the windmill, and that they had entered into an agreement with
him to hand over Animal Farm to Mr. Frederick. They added that Snowball
had privately admitted to them that he had been Jones's secret agent for
years past. When they had finished their confession, the dogs promptly
tore their throats out, and in a terrible voice Napoleon demanded whether
imal had anything to confess.
The three hens who had been the ringleaders in the attempted rebellion
over the eggs now came forward and stated that Snowball had appeared to
them in a dream and incited them to disobey Napoleon's orders. They, too,
were slaughtered. Then a goose came forward and confessed to having
secreted six ears of corn during the last year's harvest and eaten them in
the night. Then a sheep confessed to having urinated in the drinking
pool--urged to do this, so she said, by Snowball--and two otM
confessed to having murdered an old ram, an especially devoted follower of
Napoleon, by chasing him round and round a bonfire when he was suffering
from a cough. They were all slain on the spot. And so the tale of
confessions and executions went on, until there was a pile of corpses
lying before Napoleon's feet and the air was heavy with the smell of
blood, which had been unknown there since the expulsion of Jones.
When it was all over, the remaining animals, except for the pigs and dogs,
 body. They were shaken and miserable. They did not know
which was more shocking--the treachery of the animals who had leagued
themselves with Snowball, or the cruel retribution they had just
witnessed. In the old days there had often been scenes of bloodshed
equally terrible, but it seemed to all of them that it was far worse now
that it was happening among themselves. Since Jones had left the farm,
until today, no animal had killed another animal. Not even a rat had been
killed. They had made their way on to the M
little knoll where the
half-finished windmill stood, and with one accord they all lay down as
though huddling together for warmth--Clover, Muriel, Benjamin, the cows,
the sheep, and a whole flock of geese and hens--everyone, indeed, except
the cat, who had suddenly disappeared just before Napoleon ordered the
animals to assemble. For some time nobody spoke. Only Boxer remained on
his feet. He fidgeted to and fro, swishing his long black tail against his
sides and occasionally uttering a little whinny of surprise. FM
"I do not understand it. I would not have believed that such things could
happen on our farm. It must be due to some fault in ourselves. The
solution, as I see it, is to work harder. From now onwards I shall get up
a full hour earlier in the mornings."
And he moved off at his lumbering trot and made for the quarry. Having got
there, he collected two successive loads of stone and dragged them down to
the windmill before retiring for the night.
The animals huddled about Clover, not speaking. The knM
lying gave them a wide prospect across the countryside. Most of Animal
Farm was within their view--the long pasture stretching down to the main
road, the hayfield, the spinney, the drinking pool, the ploughed fields
where the young wheat was thick and green, and the red roofs of the farm
buildings with the smoke curling from the chimneys. It was a clear spring
evening. The grass and the bursting hedges were gilded by the level rays
of the sun. Never had the farm--and with a kind of surprise theyM
remembered that it was their own farm, every inch of it their own
property--appeared to the animals so desirable a place. As Clover looked
down the hillside her eyes filled with tears. If she could have spoken her
thoughts, it would have been to say that this was not what they had aimed
at when they had set themselves years ago to work for the overthrow of the
human race. These scenes of terror and slaughter were not what they had
looked forward to on that night when old Major first stirred them to
he herself had had any picture of the future, it had been
of a society of animals set free from hunger and the whip, all equal, each
working according to his capacity, the strong protecting the weak, as she
had protected the lost brood of ducklings with her foreleg on the night of
Major's speech. Instead--she did not know why--they had come to a time
when no one dared speak his mind, when fierce, growling dogs roamed
everywhere, and when you had to watch your comrades torn to pieces after
confessing to shocking criM
mes. There was no thought of rebellion or
disobedience in her mind. She knew that, even as things were, they were
far better off than they had been in the days of Jones, and that before
all else it was needful to prevent the return of the human beings.
Whatever happened she would remain faithful, work hard, carry out the
orders that were given to her, and accept the leadership of Napoleon. But
still, it was not for this that she and all the other animals had hoped
and toiled. It was not for this that they had builtM
 the windmill and faced
the bullets of Jones's gun. Such were her thoughts, though she lacked the
words to express them.
At last, feeling this to be in some way a substitute for the words she was
unable to find, she began to sing 'Beasts of England'. The other animals
sitting round her took it up, and they sang it three times over--very
tunefully, but slowly and mournfully, in a way they had never sung it
They had just finished singing it for the third time when Squealer,
attended by two dogs, approached M
them with the air of having something
important to say. He announced that, by a special decree of Comrade
Napoleon, 'Beasts of England' had been abolished. From now onwards it was
forbidden to sing it.
The animals were taken aback.
"Why?" cried Muriel.
"It's no longer needed, comrade," said Squealer stiffly. "'Beasts of
England' was the song of the Rebellion. But the Rebellion is now
completed. The execution of the traitors this afternoon was the final act.
The enemy both external and internal has been defeated.M
England' we expressed our longing for a better society in days to come.
But that society has now been established. Clearly this song has no longer
Frightened though they were, some of the animals might possibly have
protested, but at this moment the sheep set up their usual bleating of
"Four legs good, two legs bad," which went on for several minutes and put
an end to the discussion.
So 'Beasts of England' was heard no more. In its place Minimus, the poet,
had composed another song whM
Animal Farm, Animal Farm,
Never through me shalt thou come to harm!
and this was sung every Sunday morning after the hoisting of the flag.
But somehow neither the words nor the tune ever seemed to the animals to
come up to 'Beasts of England'.
A few days later, when the terror caused by the executions had died down,
some of the animals remembered--or thought they remembered--that the Sixth
Commandment decreed "No animal shall kill any other animal." And though no
ion it in the hearing of the pigs or the dogs, it was
felt that the killings which had taken place did not square with this.
Clover asked Benjamin to read her the Sixth Commandment, and when
Benjamin, as usual, said that he refused to meddle in such matters, she
fetched Muriel. Muriel read the Commandment for her. It ran: "No animal
shall kill any other animal WITHOUT CAUSE." Somehow or other, the last two
words had slipped out of the animals' memory. But they saw now that the
Commandment had not been violated; forM
 clearly there was good reason for
killing the traitors who had leagued themselves with Snowball.
Throughout the year the animals worked even harder than they had worked in
the previous year. To rebuild the windmill, with walls twice as thick as
before, and to finish it by the appointed date, together with the regular
work of the farm, was a tremendous labour. There were times when it seemed
to the animals that they worked longer hours and fed no better than they
had done in Jones's day. On Sunday mornings SquealeM
r, holding down a long
strip of paper with his trotter, would read out to them lists of figures
proving that the production of every class of foodstuff had increased by
two hundred per cent, three hundred per cent, or five hundred per cent,
as the case might be. The animals saw no reason to disbelieve him,
especially as they could no longer remember very clearly what conditions
had been like before the Rebellion. All the same, there were days when
they felt that they would sooner have had less figures and more foodM
All orders were now issued through Squealer or one of the other pigs.
Napoleon himself was not seen in public as often as once in a fortnight.
When he did appear, he was attended not only by his retinue of dogs but by
a black cockerel who marched in front of him and acted as a kind of
trumpeter, letting out a loud "cock-a-doodle-doo" before Napoleon spoke.
Even in the farmhouse, it was said, Napoleon inhabited separate apartments
from the others. He took his meals alone, with two dogs to wait upon him,
s ate from the Crown Derby dinner service which had been in the
glass cupboard in the drawing-room. It was also announced that the gun
would be fired every year on Napoleon's birthday, as well as on the other
Napoleon was now never spoken of simply as "Napoleon." He was always
referred to in formal style as "our Leader, Comrade Napoleon," and this
pigs liked to invent for him such titles as Father of All Animals, Terror
of Mankind, Protector of the Sheep-fold, Ducklings' Friend, and the like.
 his speeches, Squealer would talk with the tears rolling down his
cheeks of Napoleon's wisdom the goodness of his heart, and the deep love
he bore to all animals everywhere, even and especially the unhappy animals
who still lived in ignorance and slavery on other farms. It had become
usual to give Napoleon the credit for every successful achievement and
every stroke of good fortune. You would often hear one hen remark to
another, "Under the guidance of our Leader, Comrade Napoleon, I have laid
five eggs in six dayM
s"; or two cows, enjoying a drink at the pool, would
exclaim, "Thanks to the leadership of Comrade Napoleon, how excellent this
water tastes!" The general feeling on the farm was well expressed in a
poem entitled Comrade Napoleon, which was composed by Minimus and which
Friend of fatherless!
Fountain of happiness!
Lord of the swill-bucket! Oh, how my soul is on
Fire when I gaze at thy
Calm and commanding eye,
Like the sun in the sky,
Thou are the giver of
All that thy creatures M
Full belly twice a day, clean straw to roll upon;
Every beast great or small
Sleeps at peace in his stall,
Thou watchest over all,
Had I a sucking-pig,
Ere he had grown as big
Even as a pint bottle or as a rolling-pin,
He should have learned to be
Faithful and true to thee,
Yes, his first squeak should be
Napoleon approved of this poem and caused it to be inscribed on the wall
of the big barn, at the opposite end from the Seven Commandments. It was
surmounted by a portM
rait of Napoleon, in profile, executed by Squealer in
Meanwhile, through the agency of Whymper, Napoleon was engaged in
complicated negotiations with Frederick and Pilkington. The pile of timber
was still unsold. Of the two, Frederick was the more anxious to get hold
of it, but he would not offer a reasonable price. At the same time there
were renewed rumours that Frederick and his men were plotting to attack
Animal Farm and to destroy the windmill, the building of which had aroused
n him. Snowball was known to be still skulking on
Pinchfield Farm. In the middle of the summer the animals were alarmed to
hear that three hens had come forward and confessed that, inspired by
Snowball, they had entered into a plot to murder Napoleon. They were
executed immediately, and fresh precautions for Napoleon's safety were
taken. Four dogs guarded his bed at night, one at each corner, and a young
pig named Pinkeye was given the task of tasting all his food before he ate
it, lest it should be poisoned.
bout the same time it was given out that Napoleon had arranged to sell
the pile of timber to Mr. Pilkington; he was also going to enter into a
regular agreement for the exchange of certain products between Animal Farm
and Foxwood. The relations between Napoleon and Pilkington, though they
were only conducted through Whymper, were now almost friendly. The animals
distrusted Pilkington, as a human being, but greatly preferred him to
Frederick, whom they both feared and hated. As the summer wore on, and the
eared completion, the rumours of an impending treacherous attack
grew stronger and stronger. Frederick, it was said, intended to bring
against them twenty men all armed with guns, and he had already bribed the
magistrates and police, so that if he could once get hold of the
title-deeds of Animal Farm they would ask no questions. Moreover, terrible
stories were leaking out from Pinchfield about the cruelties that
Frederick practised upon his animals. He had flogged an old horse to
death, he starved his cows, he had M
killed a dog by throwing it into the
furnace, he amused himself in the evenings by making cocks fight with
splinters of razor-blade tied to their spurs. The animals' blood boiled
with rage when they heard of these things being done to their comrades,
and sometimes they clamoured to be allowed to go out in a body and attack
Pinchfield Farm, drive out the humans, and set the animals free. But
Squealer counselled them to avoid rash actions and trust in Comrade
Napoleon's strategy.
Nevertheless, feeling against FrederM
ick continued to run high. One Sunday
morning Napoleon appeared in the barn and explained that he had never at
any time contemplated selling the pile of timber to Frederick; he
considered it beneath his dignity, he said, to have dealings with
scoundrels of that description. The pigeons who were still sent out to
spread tidings of the Rebellion were forbidden to set foot anywhere on
Foxwood, and were also ordered to drop their former slogan of "Death to
Humanity" in favour of "Death to Frederick." In the late summerM
another of Snowball's machinations was laid bare. The wheat crop was full
of weeds, and it was discovered that on one of his nocturnal visits
Snowball had mixed weed seeds with the seed corn. A gander who had been
privy to the plot had confessed his guilt to Squealer and immediately
committed suicide by swallowing deadly nightshade berries. The animals
now also learned that Snowball had never--as many of them had believed
hitherto--received the order of "Animal Hero, First Class." This was
merely a legend whicM
h had been spread some time after the Battle of the
Cowshed by Snowball himself. So far from being decorated, he had been
censured for showing cowardice in the battle. Once again some of the
animals heard this with a certain bewilderment, but Squealer was soon able
to convince them that their memories had been at fault.
In the autumn, by a tremendous, exhausting effort--for the harvest had to
be gathered at almost the same time--the windmill was finished. The
machinery had still to be installed, and Whymper was neM
purchase of it, but the structure was completed. In the teeth of every
difficulty, in spite of inexperience, of primitive implements, of bad luck
and of Snowball's treachery, the work had been finished punctually to the
very day! Tired out but proud, the animals walked round and round their
masterpiece, which appeared even more beautiful in their eyes than when it
had been built the first time. Moreover, the walls were twice as thick as
before. Nothing short of explosives would lay them low this time!M
they thought of how they had laboured, what discouragements they had
overcome, and the enormous difference that would be made in their lives
when the sails were turning and the dynamos running--when they thought of
all this, their tiredness forsook them and they gambolled round and round
the windmill, uttering cries of triumph. Napoleon himself, attended by his
dogs and his cockerel, came down to inspect the completed work; he
personally congratulated the animals on their achievement, and announced
he mill would be named Napoleon Mill.
Two days later the animals were called together for a special meeting in
the barn. They were struck dumb with surprise when Napoleon announced that
he had sold the pile of timber to Frederick. Tomorrow Frederick's wagons
would arrive and begin carting it away. Throughout the whole period of his
seeming friendship with Pilkington, Napoleon had really been in secret
agreement with Frederick.
All relations with Foxwood had been broken off; insulting messages had
kington. The pigeons had been told to avoid Pinchfield
Farm and to alter their slogan from "Death to Frederick" to "Death to
Pilkington." At the same time Napoleon assured the animals that the
stories of an impending attack on Animal Farm were completely untrue, and
that the tales about Frederick's cruelty to his own animals had been
greatly exaggerated. All these rumours had probably originated with
Snowball and his agents. It now appeared that Snowball was not, after all,
hiding on Pinchfield Farm, and in fact haM
d never been there in his life:
he was living--in considerable luxury, so it was said--at Foxwood, and had
in reality been a pensioner of Pilkington for years past.
The pigs were in ecstasies over Napoleon's cunning. By seeming to be
friendly with Pilkington he had forced Frederick to raise his price by
twelve pounds. But the superior quality of Napoleon's mind, said Squealer,
was shown in the fact that he trusted nobody, not even Frederick.
Frederick had wanted to pay for the timber with something called a chequeM
which, it seemed, was a piece of paper with a promise to pay written upon
it. But Napoleon was too clever for him. He had demanded payment in real
five-pound notes, which were to be handed over before the timber was
removed. Already Frederick had paid up; and the sum he had paid was just
enough to buy the machinery for the windmill.
Meanwhile the timber was being carted away at high speed. When it was all
gone, another special meeting was held in the barn for the animals to
inspect Frederick's bank-notes. SmilinM
g beatifically, and wearing both his
decorations, Napoleon reposed on a bed of straw on the platform, with the
money at his side, neatly piled on a china dish from the farmhouse
kitchen. The animals filed slowly past, and each gazed his fill. And Boxer
put out his nose to sniff at the bank-notes, and the flimsy white things
stirred and rustled in his breath.
Three days later there was a terrible hullabaloo. Whymper, his face deadly
pale, came racing up the path on his bicycle, flung it down in the yard
straight into the farmhouse. The next moment a choking roar of
rage sounded from Napoleon's apartments. The news of what had happened
sped round the farm like wildfire. The banknotes were forgeries! Frederick
had got the timber for nothing!
Napoleon called the animals together immediately and in a terrible voice
pronounced the death sentence upon Frederick. When captured, he said,
Frederick should be boiled alive. At the same time he warned them that
after this treacherous deed the worst was to be expected. FrederM
his men might make their long-expected attack at any moment. Sentinels
were placed at all the approaches to the farm. In addition, four pigeons
were sent to Foxwood with a conciliatory message, which it was hoped might
re-establish good relations with Pilkington.
The very next morning the attack came. The animals were at breakfast when
the look-outs came racing in with the news that Frederick and his
followers had already come through the five-barred gate. Boldly enough the
animals sallied forth to meet thM
em, but this time they did not have the
easy victory that they had had in the Battle of the Cowshed. There were
fifteen men, with half a dozen guns between them, and they opened fire as
soon as they got within fifty yards. The animals could not face the
terrible explosions and the stinging pellets, and in spite of the efforts
of Napoleon and Boxer to rally them, they were soon driven back. A number
of them were already wounded. They took refuge in the farm buildings and
peeped cautiously out from chinks and knot-hoM
les. The whole of the big
pasture, including the windmill, was in the hands of the enemy. For the
moment even Napoleon seemed at a loss. He paced up and down without a
word, his tail rigid and twitching. Wistful glances were sent in the
direction of Foxwood. If Pilkington and his men would help them, the day
might yet be won. But at this moment the four pigeons, who had been sent
out on the day before, returned, one of them bearing a scrap of paper from
Pilkington. On it was pencilled the words: "Serves you right."M
Meanwhile Frederick and his men had halted about the windmill. The animals
watched them, and a murmur of dismay went round. Two of the men had
produced a crowbar and a sledge hammer. They were going to knock the
"Impossible!" cried Napoleon. "We have built the walls far too thick for
that. They could not knock it down in a week. Courage, comrades!"
But Benjamin was watching the movements of the men intently. The two with
the hammer and the crowbar were drilling a hole near the base of the
l. Slowly, and with an air almost of amusement, Benjamin nodded his
"I thought so," he said. "Do you not see what they are doing? In another
moment they are going to pack blasting powder into that hole."
Terrified, the animals waited. It was impossible now to venture out of the
shelter of the buildings. After a few minutes the men were seen to be
running in all directions. Then there was a deafening roar. The pigeons
swirled into the air, and all the animals, except Napoleon, flung
 their bellies and hid their faces. When they got up
again, a huge cloud of black smoke was hanging where the windmill had
been. Slowly the breeze drifted it away. The windmill had ceased to exist!
At this sight the animals' courage returned to them. The fear and despair
they had felt a moment earlier were drowned in their rage against this
vile, contemptible act. A mighty cry for vengeance went up, and without
waiting for further orders they charged forth in a body and made straight
for the enemy. This time they M
did not heed the cruel pellets that swept
over them like hail. It was a savage, bitter battle. The men fired again
and again, and, when the animals got to close quarters, lashed out with
their sticks and their heavy boots. A cow, three sheep, and two geese were
killed, and nearly everyone was wounded. Even Napoleon, who was directing
operations from the rear, had the tip of his tail chipped by a pellet. But
the men did not go unscathed either. Three of them had their heads broken
by blows from Boxer's hoofs; anotheM
r was gored in the belly by a cow's
horn; another had his trousers nearly torn off by Jessie and Bluebell. And
when the nine dogs of Napoleon's own bodyguard, whom he had instructed to
make a detour under cover of the hedge, suddenly appeared on the men's
flank, baying ferociously, panic overtook them. They saw that they were in
danger of being surrounded. Frederick shouted to his men to get out while
the going was good, and the next moment the cowardly enemy was running for
dear life. The animals chased them rightM
 down to the bottom of the field,
and got in some last kicks at them as they forced their way through the
They had won, but they were weary and bleeding. Slowly they began to limp
back towards the farm. The sight of their dead comrades stretched upon the
grass moved some of them to tears. And for a little while they halted in
sorrowful silence at the place where the windmill had once stood. Yes, it
was gone; almost the last trace of their labour was gone! Even the
foundations were partially destroyed.M
 And in rebuilding it they could not
this time, as before, make use of the fallen stones. This time the stones
had vanished too. The force of the explosion had flung them to distances
of hundreds of yards. It was as though the windmill had never been.
As they approached the farm Squealer, who had unaccountably been absent
during the fighting, came skipping towards them, whisking his tail and
beaming with satisfaction. And the animals heard, from the direction of
the farm buildings, the solemn booming of a gun.
hat is that gun firing for?" said Boxer.
"To celebrate our victory!" cried Squealer.
"What victory?" said Boxer. His knees were bleeding, he had lost a shoe
and split his hoof, and a dozen pellets had lodged themselves in his hind
"What victory, comrade? Have we not driven the enemy off our soil--the
sacred soil of Animal Farm?"
"But they have destroyed the windmill. And we had worked on it for two
"What matter? We will build another windmill. We will build six windmills
if we feel like it. You doM
 not appreciate, comrade, the mighty thing that
we have done. The enemy was in occupation of this very ground that we
stand upon. And now--thanks to the leadership of Comrade Napoleon--we have
won every inch of it back again!"
"Then we have won back what we had before," said Boxer.
"That is our victory," said Squealer.
They limped into the yard. The pellets under the skin of Boxer's leg
smarted painfully. He saw ahead of him the heavy labour of rebuilding the
windmill from the foundations, and already in imaginaM
himself for the task. But for the first time it occurred to him that he
was eleven years old and that perhaps his great muscles were not quite
what they had once been.
But when the animals saw the green flag flying, and heard the gun firing
again--seven times it was fired in all--and heard the speech that Napoleon
made, congratulating them on their conduct, it did seem to them after all
that they had won a great victory. The animals slain in the battle were
given a solemn funeral. Boxer and Clover pM
ulled the wagon which served as
a hearse, and Napoleon himself walked at the head of the procession. Two
whole days were given over to celebrations. There were songs, speeches,
and more firing of the gun, and a special gift of an apple was bestowed on
every animal, with two ounces of corn for each bird and three biscuits for
each dog. It was announced that the battle would be called the Battle of
the Windmill, and that Napoleon had created a new decoration, the Order
of the Green Banner, which he had conferred uponM
 himself. In the general
rejoicings the unfortunate affair of the banknotes was forgotten.
It was a few days later than this that the pigs came upon a case of whisky
in the cellars of the farmhouse. It had been overlooked at the time when
the house was first occupied. That night there came from the farmhouse the
sound of loud singing, in which, to everyone's surprise, the strains of
'Beasts of England' were mixed up. At about half past nine Napoleon,
wearing an old bowler hat of Mr. Jones's, was distinctly seen toM
from the back door, gallop rapidly round the yard, and disappear indoors
again. But in the morning a deep silence hung over the farmhouse. Not a
pig appeared to be stirring. It was nearly nine o'clock when Squealer made
his appearance, walking slowly and dejectedly, his eyes dull, his tail
hanging limply behind him, and with every appearance of being seriously
ill. He called the animals together and told them that he had a terrible
piece of news to impart. Comrade Napoleon was dying!
A cry of lamentation wM
ent up. Straw was laid down outside the doors of the
farmhouse, and the animals walked on tiptoe. With tears in their eyes they
asked one another what they should do if their Leader were taken away from
them. A rumour went round that Snowball had after all contrived to
introduce poison into Napoleon's food. At eleven o'clock Squealer came
out to make another announcement. As his last act upon earth, Comrade
Napoleon had pronounced a solemn decree: the drinking of alcohol was to be
, however, Napoleon appeared to be somewhat better, and the
following morning Squealer was able to tell them that he was well on the
way to recovery. By the evening of that day Napoleon was back at work, and
on the next day it was learned that he had instructed Whymper to purchase
in Willingdon some booklets on brewing and distilling. A week later
Napoleon gave orders that the small paddock beyond the orchard, which it
had previously been intended to set aside as a grazing-ground for animals
who were past work, wasM
 to be ploughed up. It was given out that the
pasture was exhausted and needed re-seeding; but it soon became known that
Napoleon intended to sow it with barley.
About this time there occurred a strange incident which hardly anyone was
able to understand. One night at about twelve o'clock there was a loud
crash in the yard, and the animals rushed out of their stalls. It was a
moonlit night. At the foot of the end wall of the big barn, where the
Seven Commandments were written, there lay a ladder broken in two piecM
Squealer, temporarily stunned, was sprawling beside it, and near at hand
there lay a lantern, a paint-brush, and an overturned pot of white paint.
The dogs immediately made a ring round Squealer, and escorted him back to
the farmhouse as soon as he was able to walk. None of the animals could
form any idea as to what this meant, except old Benjamin, who nodded his
muzzle with a knowing air, and seemed to understand, but would say nothing.
But a few days later Muriel, reading over the Seven Commandments to
lf, noticed that there was yet another of them which the animals had
remembered wrong. They had thought the Fifth Commandment was "No animal
shall drink alcohol," but there were two words that they had forgotten.
Actually the Commandment read: "No animal shall drink alcohol TO EXCESS."
Boxer's split hoof was a long time in healing. They had started the
rebuilding of the windmill the day after the victory celebrations were
ended. Boxer refused to take even a day off work, and made it a point of
our not to let it be seen that he was in pain. In the evenings he would
admit privately to Clover that the hoof troubled him a great deal. Clover
treated the hoof with poultices of herbs which she prepared by chewing
them, and both she and Benjamin urged Boxer to work less hard. "A horse's
lungs do not last for ever," she said to him. But Boxer would not listen.
He had, he said, only one real ambition left--to see the windmill well
under way before he reached the age for retirement.
At the beginning, when the lawsM
 of Animal Farm were first formulated,
the retiring age had been fixed for horses and pigs at twelve, for cows at
fourteen, for dogs at nine, for sheep at seven, and for hens and geese at
five. Liberal old-age pensions had been agreed upon. As yet no animal had
actually retired on pension, but of late the subject had been discussed
more and more. Now that the small field beyond the orchard had been set
aside for barley, it was rumoured that a corner of the large pasture was
to be fenced off and turned into a grazinM
g-ground for superannuated
animals. For a horse, it was said, the pension would be five pounds of
corn a day and, in winter, fifteen pounds of hay, with a carrot or
possibly an apple on public holidays. Boxer's twelfth birthday was due in
the late summer of the following year.
Meanwhile life was hard. The winter was as cold as the last one had been,
and food was even shorter. Once again all rations were reduced, except
those of the pigs and the dogs. A too rigid equality in rations, Squealer
explained, would have M
been contrary to the principles of Animalism. In any
case he had no difficulty in proving to the other animals that they were
NOT in reality short of food, whatever the appearances might be. For the
time being, certainly, it had been found necessary to make a readjustment
of rations (Squealer always spoke of it as a "readjustment," never as a
"reduction"), but in comparison with the days of Jones, the improvement
was enormous. Reading out the figures in a shrill, rapid voice, he proved
to them in detail that they hM
ad more oats, more hay, more turnips than
they had had in Jones's day, that they worked shorter hours, that their
drinking water was of better quality, that they lived longer, that a
larger proportion of their young ones survived infancy, and that they had
more straw in their stalls and suffered less from fleas. The animals
believed every word of it. Truth to tell, Jones and all he stood for had
almost faded out of their memories. They knew that life nowadays was harsh
and bare, that they were often hungry and ofteM
n cold, and that they were
usually working when they were not asleep. But doubtless it had been worse
in the old days. They were glad to believe so. Besides, in those days they
had been slaves and now they were free, and that made all the difference,
as Squealer did not fail to point out.
There were many more mouths to feed now. In the autumn the four sows had
all littered about simultaneously, producing thirty-one young pigs between
them. The young pigs were piebald, and as Napoleon was the only boar on
 it was possible to guess at their parentage. It was announced
that later, when bricks and timber had been purchased, a schoolroom would
be built in the farmhouse garden. For the time being, the young pigs were
given their instruction by Napoleon himself in the farmhouse kitchen. They
took their exercise in the garden, and were discouraged from playing with
the other young animals. About this time, too, it was laid down as a rule
that when a pig and any other animal met on the path, the other animal
e: and also that all pigs, of whatever degree, were to have
the privilege of wearing green ribbons on their tails on Sundays.
The farm had had a fairly successful year, but was still short of money.
There were the bricks, sand, and lime for the schoolroom to be purchased,
and it would also be necessary to begin saving up again for the machinery
for the windmill. Then there were lamp oil and candles for the house,
sugar for Napoleon's own table (he forbade this to the other pigs, on the
ground that it made them fatM
), and all the usual replacements such as
tools, nails, string, coal, wire, scrap-iron, and dog biscuits. A stump of
hay and part of the potato crop were sold off, and the contract for eggs
was increased to six hundred a week, so that that year the hens barely
hatched enough chicks to keep their numbers at the same level. Rations,
reduced in December, were reduced again in February, and lanterns in the
stalls were forbidden to save oil. But the pigs seemed comfortable enough,
and in fact were putting on weight if aM
nything. One afternoon in late
February a warm, rich, appetising scent, such as the animals had never
smelt before, wafted itself across the yard from the little brew-house,
which had been disused in Jones's time, and which stood beyond the
kitchen. Someone said it was the smell of cooking barley. The animals
sniffed the air hungrily and wondered whether a warm mash was being
prepared for their supper. But no warm mash appeared, and on the following
Sunday it was announced that from now onwards all barley would be M
for the pigs. The field beyond the orchard had already been sown with
barley. And the news soon leaked out that every pig was now receiving a
ration of a pint of beer daily, with half a gallon for Napoleon himself,
which was always served to him in the Crown Derby soup tureen.
But if there were hardships to be borne, they were partly offset by the
fact that life nowadays had a greater dignity than it had had before.
There were more songs, more speeches, more processions. Napoleon had
commanded that once aM
 week there should be held something called a
Spontaneous Demonstration, the object of which was to celebrate the
struggles and triumphs of Animal Farm. At the appointed time the animals
would leave their work and march round the precincts of the farm in
military formation, with the pigs leading, then the horses, then the cows,
then the sheep, and then the poultry. The dogs flanked the procession and
at the head of all marched Napoleon's black cockerel. Boxer and Clover
always carried between them a green banner maM
rked with the hoof and the
horn and the caption, "Long live Comrade Napoleon!" Afterwards there were
recitations of poems composed in Napoleon's honour, and a speech by
Squealer giving particulars of the latest increases in the production of
foodstuffs, and on occasion a shot was fired from the gun. The sheep were
the greatest devotees of the Spontaneous Demonstration, and if anyone
complained (as a few animals sometimes did, when no pigs or dogs were near)
that they wasted time and meant a lot of standing about inM
sheep were sure to silence him with a tremendous bleating of "Four legs
good, two legs bad!" But by and large the animals enjoyed these
celebrations. They found it comforting to be reminded that, after all,
they were truly their own masters and that the work they did was for their
own benefit. So that, what with the songs, the processions, Squealer's
lists of figures, the thunder of the gun, the crowing of the cockerel,
and the fluttering of the flag, they were able to forget that their
empty, at least part of the time.
In April, Animal Farm was proclaimed a Republic, and it became necessary
to elect a President. There was only one candidate, Napoleon, who was
elected unanimously. On the same day it was given out that fresh documents
had been discovered which revealed further details about Snowball's
complicity with Jones. It now appeared that Snowball had not, as the
animals had previously imagined, merely attempted to lose the Battle of
the Cowshed by means of a stratagem, but had been openly fM
Jones's side. In fact, it was he who had actually been the leader of the
human forces, and had charged into battle with the words "Long live
Humanity!" on his lips. The wounds on Snowball's back, which a few of the
animals still remembered to have seen, had been inflicted by Napoleon's
In the middle of the summer Moses the raven suddenly reappeared on the
farm, after an absence of several years. He was quite unchanged, still did
no work, and talked in the same strain as ever about Sugarcandy MounM
He would perch on a stump, flap his black wings, and talk by the hour to
anyone who would listen. "Up there, comrades," he would say solemnly,
pointing to the sky with his large beak--"up there, just on the other side
of that dark cloud that you can see--there it lies, Sugarcandy Mountain,
that happy country where we poor animals shall rest for ever from our
labours!" He even claimed to have been there on one of his higher flights,
and to have seen the everlasting fields of clover and the linseed cake and
p sugar growing on the hedges. Many of the animals believed him. Their
lives now, they reasoned, were hungry and laborious; was it not right and
just that a better world should exist somewhere else? A thing that was
difficult to determine was the attitude of the pigs towards Moses. They
all declared contemptuously that his stories about Sugarcandy Mountain
were lies, and yet they allowed him to remain on the farm, not working,
with an allowance of a gill of beer a day.
After his hoof had healed up, Boxer worked haM
rder than ever. Indeed, all
the animals worked like slaves that year. Apart from the regular work of
the farm, and the rebuilding of the windmill, there was the schoolhouse
for the young pigs, which was started in March. Sometimes the long hours
on insufficient food were hard to bear, but Boxer never faltered. In
nothing that he said or did was there any sign that his strength was not
what it had been. It was only his appearance that was a little altered;
his hide was less shiny than it had used to be, and his greaM
seemed to have shrunken. The others said, "Boxer will pick up when the
spring grass comes on"; but the spring came and Boxer grew no fatter.
Sometimes on the slope leading to the top of the quarry, when he braced
his muscles against the weight of some vast boulder, it seemed that
nothing kept him on his feet except the will to continue. At such times
his lips were seen to form the words, "I will work harder"; he had no
voice left. Once again Clover and Benjamin warned him to take care of his
Boxer paid no attention. His twelfth birthday was approaching.
He did not care what happened so long as a good store of stone was
accumulated before he went on pension.
Late one evening in the summer, a sudden rumour ran round the farm that
something had happened to Boxer. He had gone out alone to drag a load of
stone down to the windmill. And sure enough, the rumour was true. A few
minutes later two pigeons came racing in with the news; "Boxer has fallen!
He is lying on his side and can't get up!"
 animals on the farm rushed out to the knoll where the
windmill stood. There lay Boxer, between the shafts of the cart, his neck
stretched out, unable even to raise his head. His eyes were glazed, his
sides matted with sweat. A thin stream of blood had trickled out of his
mouth. Clover dropped to her knees at his side.
"Boxer!" she cried, "how are you?"
"It is my lung," said Boxer in a weak voice. "It does not matter. I think
you will be able to finish the windmill without me. There is a pretty good
e accumulated. I had only another month to go in any case.
To tell you the truth, I had been looking forward to my retirement. And
perhaps, as Benjamin is growing old too, they will let him retire at the
same time and be a companion to me."
"We must get help at once," said Clover. "Run, somebody, and tell Squealer
All the other animals immediately raced back to the farmhouse to give
Squealer the news. Only Clover remained, and Benjamin who lay down at
Boxer's side, and, without speaking, kept M
the flies off him with his long
tail. After about a quarter of an hour Squealer appeared, full of sympathy
and concern. He said that Comrade Napoleon had learned with the very
deepest distress of this misfortune to one of the most loyal workers on
the farm, and was already making arrangements to send Boxer to be treated
in the hospital at Willingdon. The animals felt a little uneasy at this.
Except for Mollie and Snowball, no other animal had ever left the farm,
and they did not like to think of their sick comrade M
in the hands of human
beings. However, Squealer easily convinced them that the veterinary
surgeon in Willingdon could treat Boxer's case more satisfactorily than
could be done on the farm. And about half an hour later, when Boxer had
somewhat recovered, he was with difficulty got on to his feet, and managed
to limp back to his stall, where Clover and Benjamin had prepared a good
bed of straw for him.
For the next two days Boxer remained in his stall. The pigs had sent out a
large bottle of pink medicine which theyM
 had found in the medicine chest
in the bathroom, and Clover administered it to Boxer twice a day after
meals. In the evenings she lay in his stall and talked to him, while
Benjamin kept the flies off him. Boxer professed not to be sorry for what
had happened. If he made a good recovery, he might expect to live another
three years, and he looked forward to the peaceful days that he would
spend in the corner of the big pasture. It would be the first time that he
had had leisure to study and improve his mind. He inteM
devote the rest of his life to learning the remaining twenty-two letters
However, Benjamin and Clover could only be with Boxer after working hours,
and it was in the middle of the day when the van came to take him away.
The animals were all at work weeding turnips under the supervision of a
pig, when they were astonished to see Benjamin come galloping from the
direction of the farm buildings, braying at the top of his voice. It was
the first time that they had ever seen Benjamin M
excited--indeed, it was
the first time that anyone had ever seen him gallop. "Quick, quick!" he
shouted. "Come at once! They're taking Boxer away!" Without waiting for
orders from the pig, the animals broke off work and raced back to the farm
buildings. Sure enough, there in the yard was a large closed van, drawn by
two horses, with lettering on its side and a sly-looking man in a
low-crowned bowler hat sitting on the driver's seat. And Boxer's stall was
The animals crowded round the van. "Good-bye, Boxer!"M
"Fools! Fools!" shouted Benjamin, prancing round them and stamping the
earth with his small hoofs. "Fools! Do you not see what is written on the
That gave the animals pause, and there was a hush. Muriel began to spell
out the words. But Benjamin pushed her aside and in the midst of a deadly
"'Alfred Simmonds, Horse Slaughterer and Glue Boiler, Willingdon. Dealer
in Hides and Bone-Meal. Kennels Supplied.' Do you not understand what that
re taking Boxer to the knacker's!"
A cry of horror burst from all the animals. At this moment the man on the
box whipped up his horses and the van moved out of the yard at a smart
trot. All the animals followed, crying out at the tops of their voices.
Clover forced her way to the front. The van began to gather speed. Clover
tried to stir her stout limbs to a gallop, and achieved a canter. "Boxer!"
she cried. "Boxer! Boxer! Boxer!" And just at this moment, as though he
had heard the uproar outside, Boxer's face, wiM
th the white stripe down his
nose, appeared at the small window at the back of the van.
"Boxer!" cried Clover in a terrible voice. "Boxer! Get out! Get out
quickly! They're taking you to your death!"
All the animals took up the cry of "Get out, Boxer, get out!" But the van
was already gathering speed and drawing away from them. It was uncertain
whether Boxer had understood what Clover had said. But a moment later his
face disappeared from the window and there was the sound of a tremendous
drumming of hoofs insideM
 the van. He was trying to kick his way out. The
time had been when a few kicks from Boxer's hoofs would have smashed the
van to matchwood. But alas! his strength had left him; and in a few
moments the sound of drumming hoofs grew fainter and died away. In
desperation the animals began appealing to the two horses which drew the
van to stop. "Comrades, comrades!" they shouted. "Don't take your own
brother to his death!" But the stupid brutes, too ignorant to realise
what was happening, merely set back their ears andM
 quickened their pace.
Boxer's face did not reappear at the window. Too late, someone thought of
racing ahead and shutting the five-barred gate; but in another moment the
van was through it and rapidly disappearing down the road. Boxer was never
Three days later it was announced that he had died in the hospital at
Willingdon, in spite of receiving every attention a horse could have.
Squealer came to announce the news to the others. He had, he said, been
present during Boxer's last hours.
ost affecting sight I have ever seen!" said Squealer, lifting
his trotter and wiping away a tear. "I was at his bedside at the very
last. And at the end, almost too weak to speak, he whispered in my ear
that his sole sorrow was to have passed on before the windmill was
finished. 'Forward, comrades!' he whispered. 'Forward in the name of the
Rebellion. Long live Animal Farm! Long live Comrade Napoleon! Napoleon is
always right.' Those were his very last words, comrades."
Here Squealer's demeanour suddenly changed. M
He fell silent for a moment,
and his little eyes darted suspicious glances from side to side before he
It had come to his knowledge, he said, that a foolish and wicked rumour
had been circulated at the time of Boxer's removal. Some of the animals
had noticed that the van which took Boxer away was marked "Horse
Slaughterer," and had actually jumped to the conclusion that Boxer was
being sent to the knacker's. It was almost unbelievable, said Squealer,
that any animal could be so stupid. Surely, he cried M
indignantly, whisking
his tail and skipping from side to side, surely they knew their beloved
Leader, Comrade Napoleon, better than that? But the explanation was really
very simple. The van had previously been the property of the knacker, and
had been bought by the veterinary surgeon, who had not yet painted the old
name out. That was how the mistake had arisen.
The animals were enormously relieved to hear this. And when Squealer went
on to give further graphic details of Boxer's death-bed, the admirable
ad received, and the expensive medicines for which Napoleon had
paid without a thought as to the cost, their last doubts disappeared and
the sorrow that they felt for their comrade's death was tempered by the
thought that at least he had died happy.
Napoleon himself appeared at the meeting on the following Sunday morning
and pronounced a short oration in Boxer's honour. It had not been
possible, he said, to bring back their lamented comrade's remains for
interment on the farm, but he had ordered a large wreath to M
the laurels in the farmhouse garden and sent down to be placed on Boxer's
grave. And in a few days' time the pigs intended to hold a memorial
banquet in Boxer's honour. Napoleon ended his speech with a reminder of
Boxer's two favourite maxims, "I will work harder" and "Comrade Napoleon
is always right"--maxims, he said, which every animal would do well to
On the day appointed for the banquet, a grocer's van drove up from
Willingdon and delivered a large wooden crate at the farmhouse.M
there was the sound of uproarious singing, which was followed by what
sounded like a violent quarrel and ended at about eleven o'clock with a
tremendous crash of glass. No one stirred in the farmhouse before noon on
the following day, and the word went round that from somewhere or other
the pigs had acquired the money to buy themselves another case of whisky.
Years passed. The seasons came and went, the short animal lives fled by.
A time came when there was no one who remembered the oldM
Rebellion, except Clover, Benjamin, Moses the raven, and a number of the
Muriel was dead; Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher were dead. Jones too was
dead--he had died in an inebriates' home in another part of the country.
Snowball was forgotten. Boxer was forgotten, except by the few who had
known him. Clover was an old stout mare now, stiff in the joints and with
a tendency to rheumy eyes. She was two years past the retiring age, but in
fact no animal had ever actually retired. The talk of settM
corner of the pasture for superannuated animals had long since been
dropped. Napoleon was now a mature boar of twenty-four stone. Squealer was
so fat that he could with difficulty see out of his eyes. Only old
Benjamin was much the same as ever, except for being a little greyer about
the muzzle, and, since Boxer's death, more morose and taciturn than ever.
There were many more creatures on the farm now, though the increase was
not so great as had been expected in earlier years. Many animals had been
rn to whom the Rebellion was only a dim tradition, passed on by word of
mouth, and others had been bought who had never heard mention of such a
thing before their arrival. The farm possessed three horses now besides
Clover. They were fine upstanding beasts, willing workers and good
comrades, but very stupid. None of them proved able to learn the alphabet
beyond the letter B. They accepted everything that they were told about
the Rebellion and the principles of Animalism, especially from Clover, for
 almost filial respect; but it was doubtful whether they
understood very much of it.
The farm was more prosperous now, and better organised: it had even been
enlarged by two fields which had been bought from Mr. Pilkington. The
windmill had been successfully completed at last, and the farm possessed a
threshing machine and a hay elevator of its own, and various new buildings
had been added to it. Whymper had bought himself a dogcart. The windmill,
however, had not after all been used for generating electrical poweM
was used for milling corn, and brought in a handsome money profit. The
animals were hard at work building yet another windmill; when that one was
finished, so it was said, the dynamos would be installed. But the luxuries
of which Snowball had once taught the animals to dream, the stalls with
electric light and hot and cold water, and the three-day week, were no
longer talked about. Napoleon had denounced such ideas as contrary to the
spirit of Animalism. The truest happiness, he said, lay in working hard
Somehow it seemed as though the farm had grown richer without making the
animals themselves any richer-except, of course, for the pigs and the
dogs. Perhaps this was partly because there were so many pigs and so many
dogs. It was not that these creatures did not work, after their fashion.
There was, as Squealer was never tired of explaining, endless work in the
supervision and organisation of the farm. Much of this work was of a kind
that the other animals were too ignorant to understand. For examM
Squealer told them that the pigs had to expend enormous labours every day
upon mysterious things called "files," "reports," "minutes," and
"memoranda". These were large sheets of paper which had to be closely
covered with writing, and as soon as they were so covered, they were burnt
in the furnace. This was of the highest importance for the welfare of the
farm, Squealer said. But still, neither pigs nor dogs produced any food by
their own labour; and there were very many of them, and their appetites
As for the others, their life, so far as they knew, was as it had always
been. They were generally hungry, they slept on straw, they drank from the
pool, they laboured in the fields; in winter they were troubled by the
cold, and in summer by the flies. Sometimes the older ones among them
racked their dim memories and tried to determine whether in the early
days of the Rebellion, when Jones's expulsion was still recent, things had
been better or worse than now. They could not remember. There was nothing
h which they could compare their present lives: they had nothing to go
upon except Squealer's lists of figures, which invariably demonstrated
that everything was getting better and better. The animals found the
problem insoluble; in any case, they had little time for speculating on
such things now. Only old Benjamin professed to remember every detail of
his long life and to know that things never had been, nor ever could be
much better or much worse--hunger, hardship, and disappointment being, so
And yet the animals never gave up hope. More, they never lost, even for an
instant, their sense of honour and privilege in being members of Animal
Farm. They were still the only farm in the whole county--in all
England!--owned and operated by animals. Not one of them, not even the
youngest, not even the newcomers who had been brought from farms ten or
twenty miles away, ever ceased to marvel at that. And when they heard the
gun booming and saw the green flag fluttering at the masthead, their
arts swelled with imperishable pride, and the talk turned always towards
the old heroic days, the expulsion of Jones, the writing of the Seven
Commandments, the great battles in which the human invaders had been
defeated. None of the old dreams had been abandoned. The Republic of the
Animals which Major had foretold, when the green fields of England should
be untrodden by human feet, was still believed in. Some day it was coming:
it might not be soon, it might not be with in the lifetime of any animal
ut still it was coming. Even the tune of 'Beasts of England'
was perhaps hummed secretly here and there: at any rate, it was a fact
that every animal on the farm knew it, though no one would have dared to
sing it aloud. It might be that their lives were hard and that not all of
their hopes had been fulfilled; but they were conscious that they were not
as other animals. If they went hungry, it was not from feeding tyrannical
human beings; if they worked hard, at least they worked for themselves.
No creature among thM
em went upon two legs. No creature called any other
creature "Master." All animals were equal.
One day in early summer Squealer ordered the sheep to follow him, and led
them out to a piece of waste ground at the other end of the farm, which
had become overgrown with birch saplings. The sheep spent the whole day
there browsing at the leaves under Squealer's supervision. In the evening
he returned to the farmhouse himself, but, as it was warm weather, told
the sheep to stay where they were. It ended by their remainiM
whole week, during which time the other animals saw nothing of them.
Squealer was with them for the greater part of every day. He was, he said,
teaching them to sing a new song, for which privacy was needed.
It was just after the sheep had returned, on a pleasant evening when the
animals had finished work and were making their way back to the farm
buildings, that the terrified neighing of a horse sounded from the yard.
Startled, the animals stopped in their tracks. It was Clover's voice. She
 again, and all the animals broke into a gallop and rushed into the
yard. Then they saw what Clover had seen.
It was a pig walking on his hind legs.
Yes, it was Squealer. A little awkwardly, as though not quite used to
supporting his considerable bulk in that position, but with perfect
balance, he was strolling across the yard. And a moment later, out from
the door of the farmhouse came a long file of pigs, all walking on their
hind legs. Some did it better than others, one or two were even a trifle
looked as though they would have liked the support of a
stick, but every one of them made his way right round the yard
successfully. And finally there was a tremendous baying of dogs and a
shrill crowing from the black cockerel, and out came Napoleon himself,
majestically upright, casting haughty glances from side to side, and with
his dogs gambolling round him.
He carried a whip in his trotter.
There was a deadly silence. Amazed, terrified, huddling together, the
animals watched the long line of pigs march slowlM
y round the yard. It was
as though the world had turned upside-down. Then there came a moment when
the first shock had worn off and when, in spite of everything-in spite of
their terror of the dogs, and of the habit, developed through long years,
of never complaining, never criticising, no matter what happened--they
might have uttered some word of protest. But just at that moment, as
though at a signal, all the sheep burst out into a tremendous bleating of--
"Four legs good, two legs BETTER! Four legs good, two leM
legs good, two legs BETTER!"
It went on for five minutes without stopping. And by the time the sheep
had quieted down, the chance to utter any protest had passed, for the pigs
had marched back into the farmhouse.
Benjamin felt a nose nuzzling at his shoulder. He looked round. It was
Clover. Her old eyes looked dimmer than ever. Without saying anything, she
tugged gently at his mane and led him round to the end of the big barn,
where the Seven Commandments were written. For a minute or two they stoM
gazing at the tatted wall with its white lettering.
"My sight is failing," she said finally. "Even when I was young I could
not have read what was written there. But it appears to me that that wall
looks different. Are the Seven Commandments the same as they used to be,
For once Benjamin consented to break his rule, and he read out to her what
was written on the wall. There was nothing there now except a single
Commandment. It ran:
ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL
BUT SOME ANIMALS ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS
After that it did not seem strange when next day the pigs who were
supervising the work of the farm all carried whips in their trotters. It
did not seem strange to learn that the pigs had bought themselves a
wireless set, were arranging to install a telephone, and had taken out
subscriptions to 'John Bull', 'Tit-Bits', and the 'Daily Mirror'. It did
not seem strange when Napoleon was seen strolling in the farmhouse garden
with a pipe in his mouth--no, not even when the pigs took Mr. Jones's
clothes out of the wardrM
obes and put them on, Napoleon himself appearing
in a black coat, ratcatcher breeches, and leather leggings, while his
favourite sow appeared in the watered silk dress which Mrs. Jones had been
used to wearing on Sundays.
A week later, in the afternoon, a number of dog-carts drove up to the farm.
A deputation of neighbouring farmers had been invited to make a tour of
inspection. They were shown all over the farm, and expressed great
admiration for everything they saw, especially the windmill. The animals
ing the turnip field. They worked diligently hardly raising their
faces from the ground, and not knowing whether to be more frightened of
the pigs or of the human visitors.
That evening loud laughter and bursts of singing came from the farmhouse.
And suddenly, at the sound of the mingled voices, the animals were
stricken with curiosity. What could be happening in there, now that for
the first time animals and human beings were meeting on terms of equality?
With one accord they began to creep as quietly as possibleM
At the gate they paused, half frightened to go on but Clover led the way
in. They tiptoed up to the house, and such animals as were tall enough
peered in at the dining-room window. There, round the long table, sat half
a dozen farmers and half a dozen of the more eminent pigs, Napoleon
himself occupying the seat of honour at the head of the table. The pigs
appeared completely at ease in their chairs. The company had been enjoying
a game of cards but had broken off for the moment, evidenM
drink a toast. A large jug was circulating, and the mugs were being
refilled with beer. No one noticed the wondering faces of the animals that
gazed in at the window.
Mr. Pilkington, of Foxwood, had stood up, his mug in his hand. In a
moment, he said, he would ask the present company to drink a toast. But
before doing so, there were a few words that he felt it incumbent upon him
It was a source of great satisfaction to him, he said--and, he was sure,
to all others present--to feel that a lM
ong period of mistrust and
misunderstanding had now come to an end. There had been a time--not that
he, or any of the present company, had shared such sentiments--but there
had been a time when the respected proprietors of Animal Farm had been
regarded, he would not say with hostility, but perhaps with a certain
measure of misgiving, by their human neighbours. Unfortunate incidents had
occurred, mistaken ideas had been current. It had been felt that the
existence of a farm owned and operated by pigs was somehow abnM
was liable to have an unsettling effect in the neighbourhood. Too many
farmers had assumed, without due enquiry, that on such a farm a spirit of
licence and indiscipline would prevail. They had been nervous about the
effects upon their own animals, or even upon their human employees. But
all such doubts were now dispelled. Today he and his friends had visited
Animal Farm and inspected every inch of it with their own eyes, and what
did they find? Not only the most up-to-date methods, but a discipline and
n orderliness which should be an example to all farmers everywhere. He
believed that he was right in saying that the lower animals on Animal Farm
did more work and received less food than any animals in the county.
Indeed, he and his fellow-visitors today had observed many features which
they intended to introduce on their own farms immediately.
He would end his remarks, he said, by emphasising once again the friendly
feelings that subsisted, and ought to subsist, between Animal Farm and its
neighbours. Between piM
gs and human beings there was not, and there need
not be, any clash of interests whatever. Their struggles and their
difficulties were one. Was not the labour problem the same everywhere?
Here it became apparent that Mr. Pilkington was about to spring some
carefully prepared witticism on the company, but for a moment he was too
overcome by amusement to be able to utter it. After much choking, during
which his various chins turned purple, he managed to get it out: "If you
have your lower animals to contend with," heM
 said, "we have our lower
classes!" This BON MOT set the table in a roar; and Mr. Pilkington once
again congratulated the pigs on the low rations, the long working hours,
and the general absence of pampering which he had observed on Animal Farm.
And now, he said finally, he would ask the company to rise to their feet
and make certain that their glasses were full. "Gentlemen," concluded
Mr. Pilkington, "gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the prosperity of
There was enthusiastic cheering and stamping oM
f feet. Napoleon was so
gratified that he left his place and came round the table to clink his
mug against Mr. Pilkington's before emptying it. When the cheering had
died down, Napoleon, who had remained on his feet, intimated that he too
had a few words to say.
Like all of Napoleon's speeches, it was short and to the point. He too,
he said, was happy that the period of misunderstanding was at an end. For
a long time there had been rumours--circulated, he had reason to think,
by some malignant enemy--that there waM
s something subversive and even
revolutionary in the outlook of himself and his colleagues. They had been
credited with attempting to stir up rebellion among the animals on
neighbouring farms. Nothing could be further from the truth! Their sole
wish, now and in the past, was to live at peace and in normal business
relations with their neighbours. This farm which he had the honour to
control, he added, was a co-operative enterprise. The title-deeds, which
were in his own possession, were owned by the pigs jointly.
He did not believe, he said, that any of the old suspicions still
lingered, but certain changes had been made recently in the routine of the
farm which should have the effect of promoting confidence still further.
Hitherto the animals on the farm had had a rather foolish custom of
addressing one another as "Comrade." This was to be suppressed. There had
also been a very strange custom, whose origin was unknown, of marching
every Sunday morning past a boar's skull which was nailed to a post in the
 would be suppressed, and the skull had already been
buried. His visitors might have observed, too, the green flag which flew
from the masthead. If so, they would perhaps have noted that the white
hoof and horn with which it had previously been marked had now been
removed. It would be a plain green flag from now onwards.
He had only one criticism, he said, to make of Mr. Pilkington's excellent
and neighbourly speech. Mr. Pilkington had referred throughout to
"Animal Farm." He could not of course know--for he, NapoM
now for the first time announcing it--that the name "Animal Farm"
had been abolished. Henceforward the farm was to be known as "The Manor
Farm"--which, he believed, was its correct and original name.
"Gentlemen," concluded Napoleon, "I will give you the same toast as
before, but in a different form. Fill your glasses to the brim. Gentlemen,
here is my toast: To the prosperity of The Manor Farm!"
There was the same hearty cheering as before, and the mugs were emptied to
the dregs. But as the animalsM
 outside gazed at the scene, it seemed to
them that some strange thing was happening. What was it that had altered
in the faces of the pigs? Clover's old dim eyes flitted from one face to
another. Some of them had five chins, some had four, some had three. But
what was it that seemed to be melting and changing? Then, the applause
having come to an end, the company took up their cards and continued the
game that had been interrupted, and the animals crept silently away.
But they had not gone twenty yards when they M
stopped short. An uproar of
voices was coming from the farmhouse. They rushed back and looked through
the window again. Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress. There were
shoutings, bangings on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious
denials. The source of the trouble appeared to be that Napoleon and
Mr. Pilkington had each played an ace of spades simultaneously.
Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question,
now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside
ooked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again;
but already it was impossible to say which was which.
November 1943-February 1944
Project Gutenberg Australia
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