PHOEBE

Speech
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.  [10]
‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,  [15]
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.  [20]
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,  [25]
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Words and Pronunciation +
Arden 3 | 2006

Words

would: past form of ‘will’ (SW)

fly: storm out, attack furiously (SW); flock, rush, hasten (SW); leave, run away [from], flee (SW); hawk, hunt with hawks (SW)

pretty: nice, proper, apt (SW); clever, ingenious, artful (SW); childish, trifling, naïve (SW); good, excellent, fine (SW)

sure: certain, definite, reliable (SW); harmless, innocuous, unable to cause damage (SW)

probable: plausible, believable, likely sounding (SW); provable, demonstrable, attestable (SW); worthy of belief, sufficient proof (SW)

frail’st: 1a. Liable to break or be broken; easily crushed or destroyed. (OED) 2a. Weak, subject to infirmities; wanting in power, easily overcome.
(OED)

coward gates: eyelids; the tiniest speck causes the eyelids to blink in (timorous) self-protection. (Dusinberre)

coward: cowardly (SW)

gate: entrance, doorway, portal (SW)

atomies: the tiniest particles; see 3.2.225n. (Dusinberre); atomy: mite, tiny being (SW); atom, mote, speck (SW)

frown: fierce look, sever face (SW)

counterfeit: pretend; the standard word for acting (see 4.3.166, 167)(Dusinberre); pretend, feign, make believe (SW); copy, imitate, simulate (SW)

swoon: faint (SW); Phoebe’s scornful sketch of the lover’s feigned swoon contrasts with Rosalind’s real swoon; see 4.3.155 SD, 157n. (Dusinberre)

lie not:  Phoebe, literal rather than literary (cf. 3.3.15), designates as a lie Silvius’s poetic image of eyes which wound (10–14; see Dusinberre, Women, 158–9); cf. 5.2.24. (Dusinberre)

lean: 

rush: reed (SW); ring made of rushes, reed ring (SW); rush-candle: candle made of a rush dipped in wax [giving poor light]

cicatrice: scar, deep impression (Dusinberre); scar, scar-like mark (SW)

capable impressure: indented marks retained by a sensitive or receptive surface (Dusinberre)

capable: comprehensive, exhaustive, capacious (SW); sensitive, receptive, responsive (SW); appreciative of, able to take in (SW)

impressure: imprint, impression, indentation, stamp (SW)

some moment: for some time (Abbott, 21; OED some a.1 B 4c) (Dusinberre); moment: importance, weight, consequence (SW); immediately, instantly (SW)

darted: retains its original force, of a dart’s being thrown in order to wound; cf. arrows, 32. See KL 2.2.354–5: ‘You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames / Into her scornful eyes!’ (Dusinberre); hurl like an arrow (SW)

force: energy, power, conviction (SW); physical strength, might, vigour

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Pronunciation +

counterfeit: (line 17) count-ter-fit

lean thou: (line 22) Editors have offered various emendations to restore the regular iambic pentameter line (see t.n.). The insertion of thou matches Phoebe’s imperious Come not thou, 33. (Dusinberre)

cicatrice: (line 23) sick-uh-triss

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Translation
No Fear Shakespeare

PHOEBE
I don’t want to be your executioner: I’m trying to avoid you so that I won’t hurt you. You tell me my eyes are murderous—that’s a very pretty sentiment, and oh-so-probable, that my frail, soft eyes (which are so cowardly that they close their gates against dust) are tyrants, butchers, and murderers. I’m frowning at you with all my might right now. If my eyes can injure, let them kill you now. Go ahead. Faint, fall down—if you don’t, then you’re lying about my eyes being murderers. Come on, show me the wound that my eyes have caused. If you get scratched with a pin, it leaves a scar; even if you lean on a rush, it leaves an impression on your palm. But my eyes, which I’ve darted at you, haven’t even left a mark. Now I am sure that eyes can’t hurt a person.

Assonance
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.  [10]
‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,  [15]
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.  [20]
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,  [25]
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Alliteration
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.  [10]
‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,  [15]
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.  [20]
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,  [25]
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Consonance
Arden 3 | 2012

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.  [10]
‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,  [15]
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.  [20]
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,  [25]
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Thoughts
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
1. I would not be thy executioner;
b. I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
2. Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.                      10
3. ‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
4. Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,                         15
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
5. Now counterfeit to swoon – 6. why now fall down!
7. Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
8. Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.         20
9. Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; 9b. lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. 10. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,                         25
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Thought Count
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE

Long: 0
Medium: 6 | 5
Short: 4 | 7
Total:10 | 12

Complex: 2 | 2, 2

End stopped: 7 | 8
Midline: 3 | 4

Period: 8
Exclamation: 1
Question: 0
Dash: 1

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Rhythm
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner; 10R
I fly thee for I would not injure thee. 10R
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye. 10R          10
‘Tis pretty, sure, and very probable 10R
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things, 10R
Who shut their coward gates on atomies, 10R
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers. 10
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,  10|10R                       15
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee. 11W|11ec
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down! 10|10R
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame – 10R
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. 10R
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.  10R     20
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains 10
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush, 10
The cicatrice and capable impressure 11W
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes, 10R
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,  10R                    25
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes 10|10R
That can do hurt. 4

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Pacing
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner; pause?
I fly thee for I would not injure thee. PAUSE?
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye. PAUSE?             10
‘Tis pretty, sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers. PAUSE?
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,                         15
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee. PAUSE?
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down! PAUSE?
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame – PAUSE?
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. PAUSE?
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee. PAUSE?     20
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,                         25
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Beats
Arden 3 | 2006

Beat 1

---

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.

Possible Beat

---

Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.                      10

Possible Beat

---

‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.

Possible Beat

---

Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,                         15
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.

Beat

---

Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.         20
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,                         25
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Pronunciation +

shamest: (line 23) Q2–3; sham’st Q4, F; not in Q1 (Weis)

Jesu: (line 29) jeez-yoo or jee-zoo; jayz-yoo or jay-zoo

you: (line 29) The more formal pronoun is used consistently by Nurse when addressing Juliet, while the 13-year-old uses the familiar thou, thee, thy to her servant, in conformity with the etiquette of the day in which social class overrides age. (Weis)

marry: (line 62) mah-ree (UK); meh-ree (US) (OED)

trow: (line 62) tr-ah-oo (UK); tr-oh (US) (OED)

hie: (line 68) hah-ee

wanton: (line 70) want-en or want-in

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Rhetoric
Arden 3 | 2006

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.  [10]
‘Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,  [15]
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.  [20]
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,  [25]
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

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Scene
Arden 3 | 2006 | 276-286

3.5

Enter Silvius and Phoebe.

SILVIUS
Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me, do not, Phoebe .
Say that you love me not, but say not so
In bitterness. The common executioner,
Whose heart th’accustomed sight of death makes hard,
5Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck
But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

Enter Rosalind [ as Ganymede ], Celia [ as Aliena ] and Corin. [ They stand aside.]

PHOEBE
I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee for I would not injure thee.
10Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.
’Tis pretty , sure, and very probable
That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
15Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
Now counterfeit to swoon – why now fall down!
Or if thou canst not – O, for shame, for shame –
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
20Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean thou upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
25Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,
Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

SILVIUS
——————O dear Phoebe,
If ever – as that ever may be near –
30You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,
Then shall you know the wounds invisible
That love’s keen arrows make.

PHOEBE
——————————But till that time
Come not thou near me. And when that time comes,
Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not,
35As till that time I shall not pity thee.

ROSALIND [Advances.]
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once
Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty –
As by my faith I see no more in you
40Than without candle may go dark to bed –
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
Of Nature’s sale-work. ’Od’s my little life,
45I think she means to tangle my eyes too!
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it.
’Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
50You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ’Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favoured children.
55’Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,
And thank heaven fasting for a good man’s love.
60For I must tell you friendly in your ear:
Sell when you can, you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

PHOEBE
65Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together!
I had rather hear you chide than this man woo.

ROSALIND
He’s fallen in love with your foulness, [to Silvius ]
and she’ll fall in love with my anger. If it be so,
as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I’ll
70sauce her with bitter words.
– Why look you so upon me?

PHOEBE
For no ill will I bear you.

ROSALIND
I pray you do not fall in love with me,
For I am falser than vows made in wine.
75Besides, I like you not. ([to Silvius ]) If you will know my house,
’Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by.
Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard.
Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better,
And be not proud. Though all the world could see,
80None could be so abused in sight as he.
Come, to our flock.(Exeunt [ Rosalind, Celia and Corin ].)

PHOEBE
Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might:
‘Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?’

SILVIUS
Sweet Phoebe –

PHOEBE
—————–Ha? – What sayst thou, Silvius?

SILVIUS
85Sweet Phoebe, pity me.

PHOEBE
Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.

SILVIUS
Wherever sorrow is, relief would be.
If you do sorrow at my grief in love,
By giving love your sorrow and my grief
90Were both extermined.

PHOEBE
Thou hast my love, is not that neighbourly?

SILVIUS
I would have you.

PHOEBE
——————Why, that were covetousness!
Silvius, the time was that I hated thee –
And yet it is not that I bear thee love –
95But since that thou canst talk of love so well,
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
I will endure, and I’ll employ thee too.
But do not look for further recompense
Than thine own gladness that thou art employed.

SILVIUS
100So holy and so perfect is my love,
And I in such a poverty of grace,
That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
To glean the broken ears after the man
That the main harvest reaps. Loose now and then
105A scattered smile, and that I’ll live upon.

PHOEBE
Knowst thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile?

SILVIUS
Not very well, but I have met him oft,
And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds
That the old Carlot once was master of.

PHOEBE
110Think not I love him though I ask for him.
’Tis but a peevish boy – yet he talks well.
But what care I for words? Yet words do well
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
It is a pretty youth – not very pretty –
115But sure he’s proud, and yet his pride becomes him.
He’ll make a proper man. The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.
He is not very tall, yet for his years he’s tall;
120His leg is but so-so, and yet ’tis well.
There was a pretty redness in his lip,
A little riper and more lusty red
Than that mixed in his cheek. ’Twas just the difference
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
125There be some women, Silvius, had they marked him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him; but for my part
I love him not – nor hate him not. And yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him,
130For what had he to do to chide at me?
He said mine eyes were black and my hair black,
And now I am remembered, scorned at me.
I marvel why I answered not again.
But that’s all one – omittance is no quittance.
135I’ll write to him a very taunting letter
And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius?

SILVIUS
Phoebe, with all my heart.

PHOEBE
I’ll write it straight.
The matter’s in my head and in my heart;
140I will be bitter with him and passing short.
Go with me, Silvius.

(Exeunt.)

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Pronunciation +

shamest: (line 23) Q2–3; sham’st Q4, F; not in Q1 (Weis)

Jesu: (line 29) jeez-yoo or jee-zoo; jayz-yoo or jay-zoo

you: (line 29) The more formal pronoun is used consistently by Nurse when addressing Juliet, while the 13-year-old uses the familiar thou, thee, thy to her servant, in conformity with the etiquette of the day in which social class overrides age. (Weis)

marry: (line 62) mah-ree (UK); meh-ree (US) (OED)

trow: (line 62) tr-ah-oo (UK); tr-oh (US) (OED)

hie: (line 68) hah-ee

wanton: (line 70) want-en or want-in

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