Hor. Who shall begin?
Luc.
That will I. Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me. Bion. I go.
[Exit.
Bap. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes.
Luc. I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.
Re-enter Biondello.
How now! what news?
Bion. Sir, my mistress sends you word
That she is busy, and she cannot come.
Pet. How! she is busy, and she cannot come!
Is that an answer?
Gre.
Ay, and a kind one too;
Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
Pet. I hope, better.
Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go, and entreat my
wife,
To come to me forthwith.
Pet.
Nay, then she must needs come.
Hor.
[Exit Biondello.
O, ho! entreat her!
I am afraid, sir,
Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.
Re-enter Biondello.
Now, where's my wife?
Bion. She says, you have some goodly jest in
She will not come; she bids you come to her.
Pet. Worse and worse; she will not come!
Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress;
Say, I command her come to me.
Hor. I know her answer.
She will not come. Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. Enter Katharina.
[Katharina pulls off her cap and throws it down.
Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh,
Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
Bian. Fie! what a foolish duty call you this ?
Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too:
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hast cost me a hundredcrowns since supper-time.
Bian. The more fool you for laying on my duty.
Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these head-
strong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will
have no telling.
Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her.
Wid. She shall not.
Pet. I say, she shall;-and first begin with her.
Kath. Fie, fie! unknit that threat'ning un-
kind brow;
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, i
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor :
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads;
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair
buds;
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
Muddy, ill seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled,
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and land;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fair looks, and true obedience;Too little payment for so great a debt. Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband: And when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, And, not obedient to his honest will, What is she, but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord ? I am asham'd, that women are so simple To offer war, where they should kneel for peace, Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, Unapt to toil and trouble in the world; But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts? Come, come, you freward and unable worms! My mind hath been as big as one of yours, My heart as great; my reason, haply, more, To bandy word for word, and frown for frown: Swinge me them soundly forth unto their hus-But now, I sec, our lances are but straws; bands:
Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina!
Kath. What is your will, sir, that you send
Pet. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's
wife ?
Kath. They sit conferring by the parlour fire.
Pet. Go fetch them hither; if they deny to
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
[Erit Katharina.
Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
Hor. And so it is; I wonder what it bodes.
Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet
life,
An awful rule, and right supremacy;
And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and
happy.
Bap. Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio!
The wager thou hast won; and I will add
Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
Another dowry to another daughter,
For she is chang'd, as she had never been.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet;
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
Re-enter Katharina, with Bianca, and Widow.
See, where she comes; and brings your froward
wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.-
Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not;
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.
Our strength as weak, our weakness past com.
pare,-
That seeming to be most, which we least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot;
And place your hands below your husband's foot:
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
Pet. Why, there's a wench!-Come on, and
kiss me, Kate.
Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou
shalt ha't.
Vin. "Tis a good hearing, when children are toward.
Luc. But a harsh hearing when women are froward.
Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to bed :-
We three are married, but you two are sped.
'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
And, being a winner, God give you good night!
[To Lucentio.
[Exeunt Petruchio and Kath.
Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam'd a
curst shrew.
Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be
tam'd so.
[Exeunt.
Another Sicilian Lord.
ROGERO, a Sicilian Gentleman.
An Attendant on the young Prince Mamillius.
Officers of a court of Judicature.
POLIXENES, King of Bohemia.
FLORIZEL, his Son.
ARCHIDAMUS, a Bohemian Lord.
An old Shepherd, reputed Father of Perdita.
Clown, his Son.
Servant to the old Shepherd.
AUTOLYCUS, a Rogue.
Time, as Chorus.
HERMIONE, Queen to Leontes.
PERDITA, Daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
PAULINA, Wife to Antigonus.
EMILIA, a Lady, attending the Queen.
Two other Ladies,
DORCAS, Shepherdesses.
Lords, Ladies, and Attendants; Satyrs for a dance; Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Guards, &c.
SCENE-sometimes in Sicilia, sometimes in Bohemia.
Sicilia. An Antechamber in Leontes' Palace.
Enter Camillo and Archidamus. Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia, and your Sicilia.
Cam. I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.
Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us, we will be justified in our loves; for, indeed,Cam. Beseech you,
Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence -in so rare-l know not what to say.We will give you sleepy drinks: that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.
Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.
Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to ut.
The same. A Room of State in the Palace. Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Hermione, Mamillius, Camillo, and Attendants.
Pol. Nine changes of the wat'iy star have
been
The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne
Without a burden: time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks:
And yet we should, for perpetuity,
Go hence in debt: And therefore, like a cipher,
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply,
With one we-thank-you, many thousands more
That go before it.
Leon.
Stay your thanks awhile;
And pay them when you part.
Sir, that's to-morrow.
Pol.
I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance,
Or breed upon our absence: That may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say,
This is put forth too truly! Besides, I have
stayed
To tire your royalty.
Leon.
Than you can put us to't.
No longer stay.
Leon. One seven-night longer.
Very sooth, to-morrow.
Pol.
Leon. We'll part the time between's then: and
in that
I'll no gainsaying.
Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities, and Press me not, 'beseech you, so; royal necessities, made separation of their society, Pol. their encounters, though not personal, have been There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, royally attornied, with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to So soon as yours, could win me: so it should now, be together, though absent; shook hands, as over Were there necessity in your request, although a vast; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of Twere needful I denied it. My affairs opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves! Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder Arch. I think, there is not in the world either Were, in your love, a whip to me; my stay, malice, or matter, to alter it. You have an un-To you a charge and trouble: to save both, speakable comfort of your young prince Mamil- Farewell, our brother. lius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise, that ever came into my note.
Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life, to see him a man.
Arch. Would they else be content to die? Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.
Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one.-[Exeunt. I
Leon. Tongue-tied, our queen? speak you.
Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace,
until
You had drawn oaths from him, not to stay.
You, sir,
Charge him too coldly: Tell him, you are sure,
All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim'd; say this to him,
He's beat from his best ward.
Well said, Hermione. Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong:
But let him say so then, and let him go;
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.-
Yet of your royal presence [To Polixenes] I'll
adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I'll give him my commission,
To let him there a month, behind the gest
Prefix'd for his parting: yet good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar of the clock behind
What lady she her Lord.-You'll stay?
Her. Nay, but you will? Pol.
Her. Verily!
You put me off with limber vows: But I, Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths,
Should yet say, Sir, no going. Verily,
You shall not go; a lady's verily is
As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees, When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
My prisoner? or my guest ? by your dread verily,
One of them you shall be.
Pol.
Your guest then, madam:
To be your prisoner, should import offending;
Which is for me less easy to commit,
Than you to punish.
Her.
But your kind hostess. Come, I'll puestion you Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys;
You were pretty lordlings then.
Pol.
We were, fair queen,
Two lads that thought there was no more behind,
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal.
Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two?
Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i' the sun,
And bleat the one at the other: what we chang'd,
Was innocence for innocence: we knew not
The doctrine of ill doing, no, nor dream'a
That any did: Had we pursued that life.
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd
heaven
Boldly, Not Guilty; the imposition cleared,
Hereditary ours.
By this we gather,
You have tripp'd since.
Pol
O my most sacred lady, Temptations have since then been born to us:
Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages: You may ride us,
With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal;-
My last good was, to entreat his stay;
What was my first; it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you: 0, 'would, her name were
Grace!
But once before I spoke to the purpose: When?
Nay, let me hav't; I long.
Leon.
Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to
death,
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter,
I am yours for ever.
It is grace, indeed.
Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
The other, for some while a friend.
[Giving her hand to Polixenes.
Leon.
Too hot, too hot: [Aside.
To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordis on me :-my heart dances;
But not for joy,-not joy. This entertainment
May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
And well become the agent: it may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are: and making practis'd smiles,
As in a looking-glass;-and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows.—Mamilius,
Art thou my boy?
Mam.
Leon.
I'fecks?
Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd
thy nose 7-
They say, it's a copy out of mine. Come captain,
We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd, neat.-Still virginalling
[Observing Polixenes and Hermione. Upon his palm? How now, you wanton calf? Art thou my calf? Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have,
To be full like me: yet, they say, we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say any thing: But were they false
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters; false
As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true
To say this boy were like me.-Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin eye: Sweet vil-
lain!
Most dear'st! my collop!-Can thy dam?may't be?
Affection thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible, things not so held;
Communicat'st with dreams;-(How can this
be!)-
With what's unreal thou coactive art,
And fellow'st nothing: Then, 'tis very credent, Thou may'st conjoin with something; and thou dost;
(And that beyond commission, and I find it ;)
And that to the infection of my brains,
And hardening of my brows.
Pol.
What means Sicilia 7
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.
How, my lord? What cheer? how is't with you, best brother? You look, As if you held a brow of much distraction: Are you mov'd, my lord? Leon. No, in good earnestHow sometimes nature will betray its folly, Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil
Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This squash, this gentleman-Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money!
Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.
Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole!-My brother,
Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?
If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter: Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy; My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all: He makes a July's day short as December; And, with his varying childness, cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood. Leon. So stands this squire Offic'd with me: We two will walk, my lord, And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione, How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's wel
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:
Next to thyself, and my young rover, he's
Apparent to my heart."
Her.
If you would seek us,
We are yours i' the garden; Shall's attend you
there ?
Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found,
Be you beneath the sky:-1 am angling now,
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to! [Aside. Observing Pol. and Her.
How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband! Gone already!
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a
fork'd one
[Exeunt Pol. Her. and Attendants. Go, play, boy, play-thy mother plays, and I Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour Will be my knell.-Go, play, boy, play-There have been,
Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this present,
Now, while I speak this, holds his wife by the
arm,
That little thinks, she has been sluic'd in his ab
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It is a bawdy planet, that will strike Where is predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
From east, west, north, and south: Be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly; know it;
It will let in and out the enemy,
With bag and baggage: many a thousand of us
Have the disease, and feel't not.-How now, boy?
Mam. I am like you, they say.
Leon.
What! Camillo there?
Cam. Ay, my good lord.
Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thon'rt an honest
[Exit Mamillius.
Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.
Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor
hold:
When you cast out, it still came home.
Why, that's some comfort.
His business more material.
Leon.
Didst perceive it ?They're here with me already: whispering rounding,
Sicilia is a so-forth: "Tis far gone,
When I shall gust it last.-How came't, Camille
That he did stay?
Cam.
At the good queen's entreaty
Leon. At the queen's, be't: good, should b
pertinent;
But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks:-Not noted, is't
But of the finer natures? by some severals,
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes,
Perchance, are to this business purblind: say.
Cam. Business, my lord! I think, most under-
stand
Bohemia stays here longer.
Leon.
Cam.
Leon. Ay, but why?
Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.
Satisfy The entreaties of your mistress ?—Satisfy ?Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, With all the nearest things to my heart, as well My chamber-councils: wherein, priestlike, thou Hast cleans'd my bosom; I from thee departed Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd In that which seems so. Cam. Be it forbid, my lord! Leon. To bide upon't:-Thou art not honest: If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward; Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining From course requir'd: or else thou must be counted
A servant, grafted in my serious trust,
And therein negligent; or else a fool,
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake
drawn,
And tak'st it all for jest.
My gracious lord,
I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;
In every one of these no man is frec,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
Amongst the infinite doings of the world,
Sometimes puts forth: In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful-negligent,
It was my folly; if industriously
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft affects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of. But, 'beseech your grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By its own visage: If I then deny it,
"Tis none of mine.
Leon.
Have not you seen, Camillo,
(But that's past doubt: you have; or your eye-
glass
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn;) or heard,
(For, to a vision so apparent, rumour
Cannot be mute,) or thought,-(for cogitation Resides not in that man, that does not think it)
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess, (Or else be impudently negative,
to have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then
My wife's a hobby-horse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say it, and justify it.
Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken: 'Shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this, which to reiterate, were sin
As deep as that, though true.
Leon.
Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?
Kissing with inside lip stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty :) horsing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
blind
With pin and web, but theirs, theirs only,
That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing?
Why then, the world, and all that's in't, is no-
thing;
The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these no-
things,
Good my lord, be cur'd
Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.
Cam. No, no, my lord
Leon.
It is you lie, you lie;
I say, thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee:
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave;
Or else a hovering temporizer, that
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both: Were my wife's liver
Infected as her life, she would not live
The running of one glass.
Cam.
Who does infect her? Leon. Why he, that wears her like his medal, hanging
About his neck, Bohemia: Who-if I
Had servants true about me: that bare eyes
To see alike mine honour as their profits,
Their own particular thrifts,-they would do
Which should undo more doing: Ay, and thou,
His cup-bearer,-whom I from meaner form
Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship; who
may'st see
Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees
heaven,
How I am galled,-might'st bespice a cup,
To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
Which draught to me were cordial.
Cam.
Sir, my lord,
I could do this: and that with no rash potion,
But with a ling'ring dram, that should not work
Maliciously like poison: But I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have lov'd thee,
Leon.
Make't thy question, and go rot!
Dost think, I am so muddy, so unsettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation? sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
Which to preserve, is sleep; which being spotted,
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps?
Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son,
Who, I do think is mine, and love as mine;
Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this?
Could man so blench?
I must believe you, sir;
Jdo: and will fetch off Bohemia for't;
Provided, that when he's remov'd, your highness
Will take again your queen, as yours at first;
Even for your son's sake; and, thereby, for
sealing
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.
Leon.
Thou dost advise me,
Even so as I mine own course have set down:
I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.
Go then; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohe-
mia,
And with your queen: I am his cupbearer;
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant.
Leon.
This is all:
Do't and thou hast the one half of my heart;
Do't not, thou split'st thine own.
Cam.
I'll do't, my lord Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd [Exit
Cam. O miserable lady !-But, for me,
What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes: and my ground to do 't
Is the obedience to a master; one,
Who, in rebellion with himself, will have
All that are his, so too. To do this deed,
Promotion follows: If I could find example
Of thousands, that had struck anointed kings,
And flourish'd after, I'd not do't: but since
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not
Let villany itself forswear't. I must
Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now!
Here comes Bohemia.
This is strange! methinks,
My favour here begins to warp. Not speak 7-
Cam.
Good day, Camillo.
Hail, most royal sir!
Pol. What is the news i' the court?
Cam.
None rare, my lord.
Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance,
As he had lost some province, and a region,
Lov'd as he loves himself: even now I met him
With customary compliment; when he,
Wafting his eyes to the contrary, and falling
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me; and
So leaves me, to consider what is breeding,
That changes thus his manners.
Pol. How! dare not? do not. Do you know,
Cam. I dare not know, my lord.
and dare not
Be intelligent to me? "Tis thereabouts;
For, to yourself, what you do know, you must;
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror,
Which shows me mine chang'd too: for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself thus alter'd with it.
Cam
There is a sickness
I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
Which puts some of us in distemper; but
Of you that yet are well.
Pol.
How! canght of me?
Make me not sighted like the basilisk:
I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the
better
By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,-
As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto,
Our gentry, than our parents' noble names,
Clerk-like, experienc'd, which no less adorns
In whose success we are gentle,-I beseech you,
If you know aught which does behoove my know
ledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison it not
Cam.
In ignorant concealment.
I may not answer
Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well
I must be answer'd.-Dost thou hear, Camillo,
Which honour does acknowledge,-whereof the
I conjure thee, by all the parts of man,
Is not this suit of mine,-that thou declare
What incidency thou dost guess of harm
Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
Which way to be prevented, if to be;
If not, how best to bear it.
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