Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.

Beat. Foul words are but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward. And I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Beat. For them altogether; which maintained so politick a state of evil, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me?

Bene. Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Beat. In spite of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.

Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the time of good neighbours: if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

Beat. And how long is that, think you?

Bene. Question? Why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum1: Therefore it is most expedient for the wise, (if Don Worm his conscience find no impediment to the contrary), to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself; So much for praising myself, (who, I myself will bear witness, is praise-worthy), and now tell me, How doth your cousin?

Beat. Very ill.

Bene. And how do you?
Beat. Very ill too.

Bene, Serve God, love me, and mend; there will I leave you too, for here comes one in haste.

Enter Ursula.

Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle; yonder's old coil at home: it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily abused: and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone: will you come presently?

Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior? Bene. I will live in thy heart, be buried in thy eyes, and will go with thee to thy uncle's. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-THE INSIDE OF A CHURCH. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, with musick and tapers.

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
Atten. It is, my lord.
Claud. [Reads from a scroll.]

And then to Leonato's we will go. [speeds, Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier issue Than this, for whom we rendered up this woe! [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A ROOM IN LEONATO'S HOUSE. Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, Ursula, Friar, and Hero.

Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? L. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd Upon the error that you heard debated: [her, But Margaret was in some fault for this; Although against her will, as it appears In the true course of all the question.

Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well. To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'u

Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves;
L. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all.
And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd,
To visit me;-You know your office, brother;
The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies.

A.Which I will dowith confirm'd countenance.
Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
Friar. To do what, signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them.Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: "Tis most true,

1 Recompense.

Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her. Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from me, [will? From Claudio and the prince; But what's your Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical: But, for my will, my will is, your good will May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd In the estate of honourable marriage ;In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. Leon. My heart is with your liking. Friar. And my help. Here comes the prince, and Claudio.

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio, with Attendants. D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. Leon. Good morrow, prince: good morrow, Claudio:

We here attend you; are you yet determin'd To-day to marry with my brother's daughter? Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.

Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar
ready.
[Exit Antonio.
D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why,
what's the matter,

That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness.

Re-enter Antonio, with the Ladies masked. Claud. For this I owe you: here come other reckonings.

Which is the lady I must seize upon ?

Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then, she's mine: Sweet, let me see your face. [her hand, Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take Before this friar, and swear to marry her. Cl. Give me your hand before this holy friar; I am your husband, if you like of me. Hero. And when I lived, I was your other wife: [Unmasking.

Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula,

Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me.

Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

Bene. "Tis no such matter:-Then you do not love me?

Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

Cl. And I'll be sworn upon 't, that he loves her; For here's a paper, written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero. And here's another, Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. A miracle? here's our own hands against our hearts!-Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly to save your life; for I was told you were in a consumption.

Bene. Peace, I will stop your month.[Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married man?

Nothing certainer:

Hero. One Hero died defam'd; but I do live, And, surely as I live, I am a maid.

[band.

D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead. Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
Mean time, let wonder seem familiar,
And to the chapel let us presently.

Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice? Beat. I answer to that name; [Unmasking. What is your will?

Bene. Do not you love me?

Claud. I had well hoped, thou would'st have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a doubledealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene, Come, come, we are friends:-let's have a dance,ere we are married, that we might lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

B. First, o' my word; therefore, play, musick. -Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. My lord, your brother John is ta 'en in flight,

And brought with armed men back to Messina. Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow; I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.-Strike up, pipers. [Dance,-Exeunt.

Act First.

SCENE I. ATHENS. A ROOM IN THE PALACE OF THESEUS.

Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and Attendants.

Thes. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace: four happy days bring in Another moon: but, oh, methinks, how slow This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires, Like to a step-dame, or a dowager,

Long withering out a young man's revenue. Hip. Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights;

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
Of our solemnities.

The.
Go, Philostrate,
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
Turn melancholy forth to funerals,
The pale companion is not for our pomp.
[Exit Philostrate.
Hippolyta, I woo'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.

Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke! The. Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news with thee?

Ege. Full of vexation come I, with complaint Against my child, my daughter Hermia,Stand forth, Demetrius; My noble lord, This man hath my consent to marry her: Stand forth, Lysander;-and, my gracious duke,

This hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child: Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,

And interchang'd love-tokens with my child: Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung, With feigning voice, verses of feigning love; And stol'n the impression of her fantasy [ceits, With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds,1 conKnacks, trifles, nosegays, sweet-meats; messengers

Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth: With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart;

Turn'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.

[maid:

T. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair To you your father should be as a god; One that compos'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. Her. So is Lysander.

The. In himself he is: But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice, The other must be held the worthier. [eyes. H. I would, my father look'd but with my T. Rather your eyes must with his judgment H. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. [look. I know not by what power I am made bold; Nor how it may concern my modesty,

In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts:

1 Trinketa,

But I beseech your grace that I may know
The worst that may befal me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.

The. 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's choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun;
For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage:
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
The. Take 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's will;
Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would.
Or on Diana's altar to protest,

For aye, austerity and single life.

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia ;-And, Lysander,
yield

Thy crazed title to my certain right.
Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius:
Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
E. Scornful 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.

Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv❜d as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius';
And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia:
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted1 and inconstant man.

The. I must confess, that I have heard so much, And with Demetrius thought to have spoke But, being over-full of self-affairs, [thereof; 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's will; 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. 1 Wicked.

How chance the roses there do fade so fast? H.Belike,1 for want of rain; which I could well Beteem2 them from the tempest of mine eyes.

Lys. Ah me! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood; Or else mis-graffed, in respect of years; Or else it stood upon the choice of friends: Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; Making it momentany3 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,-Behold! The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.

Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd, It stands as an edict in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross;

[sighs,

As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's5 followers.

Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, I have a widow aunt, a dowager [Hermia. 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 lov'st me then, Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow 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.

Her.

My good Lysander!
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow;
By his best arrow with the golden head;
By the simplicity of Venus' doves;

By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves;
And bythat firewhich burn'dtheCarthage queen,
When the false Trojan under sail was seen;
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke ;-
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
Lys. Keep promise, love: Look, here comes
Helena.

Enter Helena.

Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away? Hel. Call you me fair? that fair again unsay. Demetrius loves you fair: O happy fair! Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air

More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds apSickness is catching; O, were favour so! [pear. Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, 1 Perhaps, 2 Bestow.

4 Black. 5 Love's.

8 Momentary.

6 Pole stars. 7 Kind regard,

My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.

Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'll give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look; and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O, that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Hel. O that my prayers could such affection

move.

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me. Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. Hel. None but your beauty; 'Would that fault were mine! [face, Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my Lysander and myself will fly this place.Before the time I did Lysander see, Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me; O then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turned a heaven into hell!

Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: To-morrow night when Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal), Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. Her. 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: And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and stranger companies. Farewell, sweet play-fellow; pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius! Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight From lovers' food, till morrow deep_midnight. [Exit Herm. Lys. I will, my Hermia.-Helena, adieu: you on him, Demetrius dote on you! As

[Exit Lys.

Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so; He will not know what all but he do know. And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes, 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. Nor hath love'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'd. As waggish boys in game1 themselves forswear, So the boy love is perjur'd everywhere: For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,2 He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine; And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt. I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight: Then to the wood will he to-morrow night, Pursue her; and for this intelligence If I have thanks, it is a dear expence: 1 Sport. 2 Eyes.

But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither, and back again.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-THE SAME. A ROOM IN A COTTAGE. Enter Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, and Starveling.

Quin. Is all our company here? Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip.1

Quin. 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.

Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.

Quin. Marry, our play is-The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.

Bot. 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 yourselves.

Quin. Answer, as I call you.-Nick Bottom, the weaver.

Bot. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed.

Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love.

their

Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: If I do it, let the audience look to 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, "With shivering shocks, 'Shall break the locks "Of prison gates: "And Phibbus' car "Shall shine from far, "And make and mar "The foolish fates."

This was lofty!-Now name the rest of the players-This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein: a lover is more condoling.

Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
Flu. Here, Peter Quince.

Quin. You must take Thisby on you.
Flu. What is Thisby? a wandering knight?
Quin. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman;
I have a beard coming.

Quin. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.

Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too: I'll speak in a monstrous little voice; -Thisne, Thisne, Ah, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear: and lady dear!

Quin. No, no: you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you Thisby.

1 Written list.