William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (132 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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⌈
Lodowick comes forward
⌉
Give me ink and paper.
LODOWICK I will, my liege.
KING EDWARD
And bid the lords hold on their play at chess,
For we will walk and meditate alone.
For we will walk and meditate alone.
LODOWICK I will, my sovereign. Exit
KING EDWARD
This fellow is well read in poetry,
And hath a lusty and persuasive spirit.
I will acquaint him with my passion,
Which he shall shadow with a veil of lawn,
Through which the queen of beauty’s queen shall see
Herself the ground of my infirmity.
And hath a lusty and persuasive spirit.
I will acquaint him with my passion,
Which he shall shadow with a veil of lawn,
Through which the queen of beauty’s queen shall see
Herself the ground of my infirmity.
Enter Lodowick, with pen, ink and paper
Hast thou pen, ink and paper ready, Lod’wick?
LODOWICK Ready, my liege.
KING EDWARD
Then in the summer arbour sit by me;
Make it our council house or cabinet:
Since green our thoughts, green be the conventicle
Where we will ease us by disburd’ning them.
Make it our council house or cabinet:
Since green our thoughts, green be the conventicle
Where we will ease us by disburd’ning them.
⌈
They sit. Lodowick prepares to write
⌉
Now, Lod‘wick, invocate some golden muse
To bring thee hither an enchanted pen
That may for sighs set down true sighs indeed,
Talking of grief, to make thee ready groan,
And when thou write’st of tears, encouch the word
Before and after with such sweet laments
That it may raise drops in a Tartar’s eye,
And make a flint-heart Scythian pitiful—
For so much moving hath a poet’s pen.
Then, if thou be a poet, move thou so
And be enriched by thy sovereign’s love.
For if the touch of sweet concordant strings
Could force attendance in the ears of hell,
How much more shall the strains of poets’ wit
Beguile and ravish soft and human minds?
To bring thee hither an enchanted pen
That may for sighs set down true sighs indeed,
Talking of grief, to make thee ready groan,
And when thou write’st of tears, encouch the word
Before and after with such sweet laments
That it may raise drops in a Tartar’s eye,
And make a flint-heart Scythian pitiful—
For so much moving hath a poet’s pen.
Then, if thou be a poet, move thou so
And be enriched by thy sovereign’s love.
For if the touch of sweet concordant strings
Could force attendance in the ears of hell,
How much more shall the strains of poets’ wit
Beguile and ravish soft and human minds?
LODOWICK
To whom, my lord, shall I direct my style?
KING EDWARD
To one that stains the fair and sots the wise,
Whose body is an abstract or a brief,
Contains each general virtue in the world.
‘Better than beautiful’, thou must begin,
Devise for
fair
a fairer word than ‘fair’,
And every ornament that thou wouldst praise,
Fly it a pitch above the soar of praise.
For flattery fear thou not to be convicted,
For were thy admiration ten times more,
Ten times ten thousand more the worth exceeds
Of that thou art to praise thy praise’s worth.
Begin; I will to contemplate the while.
Forget not to set down how passionate,
How heart-sick and how full of languishment
Her beauty makes me.
Whose body is an abstract or a brief,
Contains each general virtue in the world.
‘Better than beautiful’, thou must begin,
Devise for
fair
a fairer word than ‘fair’,
And every ornament that thou wouldst praise,
Fly it a pitch above the soar of praise.
For flattery fear thou not to be convicted,
For were thy admiration ten times more,
Ten times ten thousand more the worth exceeds
Of that thou art to praise thy praise’s worth.
Begin; I will to contemplate the while.
Forget not to set down how passionate,
How heart-sick and how full of languishment
Her beauty makes me.
LODOWICK Write I to a woman?
KING EDWARD
What beauty else could triumph over me,
Or who but women do our love-lays greet?
What think’st thou I did bid thee praise? A horse?
Or who but women do our love-lays greet?
What think’st thou I did bid thee praise? A horse?
LODOWICK
Of what condition or estate she is
’Twere requisite that I should know, my lord.
’Twere requisite that I should know, my lord.
KING EDWARD
Of such estate that hers is as a throne,
And my estate the footstool where she treads.
Then mayst thou judge what her condition is
By the proportion of her mightiness.
Write on, while I peruse her in my thoughts.
⌈ ⌉
Her voice to music or the nightingale.
To music every summer-leaping swain
Compares his sunburnt lover when she speaks,
And why should I speak of the nightingale?
The nightingale sings of adulterate wrong
And that compare is too satirical,
For sin, though sin, would not be so esteemed,
But rather virtue sin, sin virtue deemed.
Her hair far softer than the silkworm’s twist,
Like to a flattering glass doth make more fair
The yellow amber—‘like a flattering glass’
Comes in too soon: for writing of her eyes
I’ll say that like a glass they catch the sun,
And thence the hot reflection doth rebound
Against my breast and burns my heart within.
Ah, what a world of descant makes my soul
Upon this voluntary ground of love!
Come, Lod’wick: hast thou turned thy ink to gold?
If not, write but in letters capital
My mistress’ name, and it will gild thy paper.
Read, Lod’wick, read!
Fill thou the empty hollows of mine ears
With the sweet hearing of thy poetry!
And my estate the footstool where she treads.
Then mayst thou judge what her condition is
By the proportion of her mightiness.
Write on, while I peruse her in my thoughts.
⌈ ⌉
Her voice to music or the nightingale.
To music every summer-leaping swain
Compares his sunburnt lover when she speaks,
And why should I speak of the nightingale?
The nightingale sings of adulterate wrong
And that compare is too satirical,
For sin, though sin, would not be so esteemed,
But rather virtue sin, sin virtue deemed.
Her hair far softer than the silkworm’s twist,
Like to a flattering glass doth make more fair
The yellow amber—‘like a flattering glass’
Comes in too soon: for writing of her eyes
I’ll say that like a glass they catch the sun,
And thence the hot reflection doth rebound
Against my breast and burns my heart within.
Ah, what a world of descant makes my soul
Upon this voluntary ground of love!
Come, Lod’wick: hast thou turned thy ink to gold?
If not, write but in letters capital
My mistress’ name, and it will gild thy paper.
Read, Lod’wick, read!
Fill thou the empty hollows of mine ears
With the sweet hearing of thy poetry!
LODOWICK
I have not to a period brought her praise.
KING EDWARD
Her praise is as my Love—both infinite,
Which apprehend such violent extremes
That they disdain an ending period.
Her beauty hath no match but my affection;
Hers more than most, mine most, and more than more;
Hers more to praise than tell the sea by drops—
Nay more!—than drop the massy earth by sands,
And sand by sand print them in memory.
Then wherefore talk’st thou of a period
To that which craves unended admiration?
Read. Let us hear.
Which apprehend such violent extremes
That they disdain an ending period.
Her beauty hath no match but my affection;
Hers more than most, mine most, and more than more;
Hers more to praise than tell the sea by drops—
Nay more!—than drop the massy earth by sands,
And sand by sand print them in memory.
Then wherefore talk’st thou of a period
To that which craves unended admiration?
Read. Let us hear.
LODOWICK (
reading
)
reading
)
‘More fair and chaste than is the queen of shades’—
KING EDWARD (
staying him
)
staying him
)
That line hath two faults, gross and palpable.
Compar’st thou her to the pale queen of night,
Who, being set in dark, seems therefore light?
What is she when the sun lifts up his head
But like a fading taper, dim and dead?
My love shall brave the eye of heaven at noon,
And, being unmasked, outshine the golden sun!
Compar’st thou her to the pale queen of night,
Who, being set in dark, seems therefore light?
What is she when the sun lifts up his head
But like a fading taper, dim and dead?
My love shall brave the eye of heaven at noon,
And, being unmasked, outshine the golden sun!
LODOWICK
What is the other fault, my sovereign lord?
KING EDWARD
Read o’er the line again.
LODOWICK (
reading
) ‘More fair and chaste’—
reading
) ‘More fair and chaste’—
KING EDWARD (
staying him
)
staying him
)
I did not bid thee talk of chastity,
To ransack so the treasure of her mind,
For I had rather have her chased than chaste!
Out with the moon line! I will none of it.
And let me have her likened to the sun-
Say she hath thrice more splendour than the sun,
That her perfections emulates the sun,
That she breeds sweets as plenteous as the sun,
That she doth thaw cold winter like the sun,
That she doth cheer fresh summer like the sun,
That she doth dazzle gazers like the sun,
And in this application to the sun
Bid her be free and general as the sun,
Who smiles upon the basest weed that grows
As lovingly as on the fragrant rose.
Let’s see what follows that same moonlight line.
To ransack so the treasure of her mind,
For I had rather have her chased than chaste!
Out with the moon line! I will none of it.
And let me have her likened to the sun-
Say she hath thrice more splendour than the sun,
That her perfections emulates the sun,
That she breeds sweets as plenteous as the sun,
That she doth thaw cold winter like the sun,
That she doth cheer fresh summer like the sun,
That she doth dazzle gazers like the sun,
And in this application to the sun
Bid her be free and general as the sun,
Who smiles upon the basest weed that grows
As lovingly as on the fragrant rose.
Let’s see what follows that same moonlight line.
LODOWICK (
reading
)
reading
)
‘More fair and chaste than is the queen of shades,
More bold in constancy’—
More bold in constancy’—
KING EDWARD (
staying him
)
staying him
)
In constancy than who?
LODOWICK (
reading
)
reading
)
‘...than Judith was.’
KING EDWARD
O monstrous line! Put in the next a sword
And I shall woo her to cut off my head!
Blot, blot, good Lod’wick. Let us hear the next.
And I shall woo her to cut off my head!
Blot, blot, good Lod’wick. Let us hear the next.
LODOWICK There’s all that yet is done.
KING EDWARD
I thank thee then. Thou hast done little ill,
But what is done is passing passing ill.
No, let the captain talk of boist’rous war,
The prisoner of emurèd dark constraint;
The sick man best sets down the pangs of death,
The man that starves the sweetness of a feast,
The frozen soul the benefit of fire,
And every grief his happy opposite.
Love cannot sound well but in lovers’ tongues.
Give me the pen and paper. I will write.
But what is done is passing passing ill.
No, let the captain talk of boist’rous war,
The prisoner of emurèd dark constraint;
The sick man best sets down the pangs of death,
The man that starves the sweetness of a feast,
The frozen soul the benefit of fire,
And every grief his happy opposite.
Love cannot sound well but in lovers’ tongues.
Give me the pen and paper. I will write.
Lodowick gives him the pen and paper.
Enter the Countess of Salisbury
(
Aside
) But soft—here comes the treasurer of my spirit.
(
Aloud to Lodowick, showing him the paper in his hand
)
Lod‘wick, thou know’st not how to draw a battle!
These wings, these flankers and these squadrons
Argue in thee defective discipline.
Thou shouldst have placed this here, this other here—
Aside
) But soft—here comes the treasurer of my spirit.
(
Aloud to Lodowick, showing him the paper in his hand
)
Lod‘wick, thou know’st not how to draw a battle!
These wings, these flankers and these squadrons
Argue in thee defective discipline.
Thou shouldst have placed this here, this other here—
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Pardon my boldness, my thrice-gracious lords.
Let my intrusion here be called my duty
That comes to see my sovereign how he fares.
Let my intrusion here be called my duty
That comes to see my sovereign how he fares.
KING EDWARD (
to Lodowick, giving him the paper
)
to Lodowick, giving him the paper
)
Go, draw the same, I tell thee in what form.
LODOWICK I go. Exit
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Sorry I am to see my liege so sad.
What may thy subject do to drive from thee
Thy gloomy consort, sullen melancholy?
What may thy subject do to drive from thee
Thy gloomy consort, sullen melancholy?
KING EDWARD
Ah, lady, I am blunt and cannot strew
The flowers of solace in a ground of shame.
Since I came hither, Countess, I am wronged.
The flowers of solace in a ground of shame.
Since I came hither, Countess, I am wronged.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Now God forbid that any in my house
Should think my sovereign wrong! Thrice-gentle King,
Acquaint me with thy cause of discontent.
Should think my sovereign wrong! Thrice-gentle King,
Acquaint me with thy cause of discontent.
KING EDWARD
How near, then, shall I be to remedy?
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
As near, my liege, as all my woman’s power
Can pawn itself to buy thy remedy.
Can pawn itself to buy thy remedy.
KING EDWARD
If thou speak’st true, then have I my redress.
Engage thy power to redeem my joys,
And I am joyful, Countess; else I die.
Engage thy power to redeem my joys,
And I am joyful, Countess; else I die.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY I will, my liege.
KING EDWARD Swear, Countess, that thou wilt.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY By heaven, I will.
KING EDWARD
Then take thyself a little way aside
And tell thyself a king doth dote on thee.
Say that within thy power it doth lie
To make him happy, and that thou hast sworn
To give him all the joy within thy power-
Do this, and tell me when I shall be happy.
And tell thyself a king doth dote on thee.
Say that within thy power it doth lie
To make him happy, and that thou hast sworn
To give him all the joy within thy power-
Do this, and tell me when I shall be happy.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
All this is done, my thrice-dread sovereign.
That power of love that I have power to give
Thou hast, with all devout obedience.
Employ me how thou wilt in proof thereof.
That power of love that I have power to give
Thou hast, with all devout obedience.
Employ me how thou wilt in proof thereof.
KING EDWARD
Thou hear’st me say that I do dote on thee.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
If on my beauty, take it if thou canst;
Though little, I do prize it ten times less.
If on my virtue, take it if thou canst;
For virtue’s store, by giving, doth augment.
Be it on what it will that I can give,
And thou canst take away, inherit it.
Though little, I do prize it ten times less.
If on my virtue, take it if thou canst;
For virtue’s store, by giving, doth augment.
Be it on what it will that I can give,
And thou canst take away, inherit it.
KING EDWARD
It is thy beauty that I would enjoy.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
O, were it painted I would wipe it off
And dispossess myself to give it thee!
But, sovereign, it is soldered to my life:
Take one, and both, for, like an humble shadow,
It haunts the sunshine of my summer’s life—
And dispossess myself to give it thee!
But, sovereign, it is soldered to my life:
Take one, and both, for, like an humble shadow,
It haunts the sunshine of my summer’s life—
KING EDWARD
But thou mayst lend it me to sport withal.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
As easy may my intellectual soul
Be lent away and yet my body live
As lend my body, palace to my soul,
Away from her and yet retain my soul.
My body is her bower, her court, her abbey;
And she an angel, pure, divine, unspotted.
If I should lend her house, my lord, to thee,
I kill my poor soul, and my poor soul me.
Be lent away and yet my body live
As lend my body, palace to my soul,
Away from her and yet retain my soul.
My body is her bower, her court, her abbey;
And she an angel, pure, divine, unspotted.
If I should lend her house, my lord, to thee,
I kill my poor soul, and my poor soul me.
KING EDWARD
Didst thou not swear to give me what I would?
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
I did, my liege, so what you would I could.
KING EDWARD
I wish no more of thee than thou mayst give,
Nor beg I do not, but I rather buy—
That is, thy love; and for that love of thine
In rich exchange I tender to thee mine.
Nor beg I do not, but I rather buy—
That is, thy love; and for that love of thine
In rich exchange I tender to thee mine.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
But that your lips were sacred, good my lord,
You would profane the holy name of love.
That love you offer me you cannot give,
For Caesar owes that tribute to his queen.
That love you beg of me I cannot give,
For Sarah owes that duty to her lord.
He that doth clip or counterfeit your stamp
Shall die, my lord: and will your sacred self
Commit high treason ‘gainst the king of heaven
To stamp his image in forbidden metal,
Forgetting your allegiance and your oath?
In violating marriage’ sacred law
You break a greater honour than yourself:
To be a king is of a younger house
Than to be married. Your progenitor,
Sole reigning Adam o’er the universe,
By God was honoured for a married man,
But not by him anointed for a king.
It is a penalty to break your statutes,
Though not enacted with your highness’ hand;
How much more to infringe the holy act
Made by the mouth of God, sealed with his hand!
I know my sovereign—in my husband’s love,
Who now doth loyal service in his wars—
Doth but so try the wife of Salisbury,
Whether she will hear a wanton’s tale or no.
Lest being therein guilty by my stay,
From that, not from my liege, I turn away. Exit
You would profane the holy name of love.
That love you offer me you cannot give,
For Caesar owes that tribute to his queen.
That love you beg of me I cannot give,
For Sarah owes that duty to her lord.
He that doth clip or counterfeit your stamp
Shall die, my lord: and will your sacred self
Commit high treason ‘gainst the king of heaven
To stamp his image in forbidden metal,
Forgetting your allegiance and your oath?
In violating marriage’ sacred law
You break a greater honour than yourself:
To be a king is of a younger house
Than to be married. Your progenitor,
Sole reigning Adam o’er the universe,
By God was honoured for a married man,
But not by him anointed for a king.
It is a penalty to break your statutes,
Though not enacted with your highness’ hand;
How much more to infringe the holy act
Made by the mouth of God, sealed with his hand!
I know my sovereign—in my husband’s love,
Who now doth loyal service in his wars—
Doth but so try the wife of Salisbury,
Whether she will hear a wanton’s tale or no.
Lest being therein guilty by my stay,
From that, not from my liege, I turn away. Exit
KING EDWARD
Whether is her beauty by her words divine,
Or are her words sweet chaplains to her beauty?
Like as the wind doth beautify a sail
And as a sail becomes the unseen wind,
So do her words her beauties, beauty words.
O, that I were a honey-gathering bee
To bear the comb of virtue from this flower,
And not a poison-sucking, envious spider
To turn the juice I take to deadly venoml
Religion is austere, and beauty gentle—
Too strict a guardian for so fair a ward.
O, that she were as is the air to me!
Why, so she is: for when I would embrace her,
This do I (
embracing the air
), and catch nothing but myself.
I must enjoy her, for I cannot beat
With reason and reproof fond love away.
Or are her words sweet chaplains to her beauty?
Like as the wind doth beautify a sail
And as a sail becomes the unseen wind,
So do her words her beauties, beauty words.
O, that I were a honey-gathering bee
To bear the comb of virtue from this flower,
And not a poison-sucking, envious spider
To turn the juice I take to deadly venoml
Religion is austere, and beauty gentle—
Too strict a guardian for so fair a ward.
O, that she were as is the air to me!
Why, so she is: for when I would embrace her,
This do I (
embracing the air
), and catch nothing but myself.
I must enjoy her, for I cannot beat
With reason and reproof fond love away.
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