Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle; yonder's old coil 21) at home; it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily abus'd; and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone; will you come preBeat. Will you go hear this news, signior? Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes; and, moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's. [Exeunt.
I mean, in singing; but in loving Leander, the
good swimmer, Troilus, the first employer of panders,
and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-sently?
mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even
road of a blank verse, why, they were never so
truly turned over and over as my poor self, in love;
Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried;
I can find out no rhyme to lady but baby, an in-
nocent rhyme; for scorn, horn, a hard rhyme; for
school, fool, a babbling rhyme; very ominous end-
ings: No, I was not born under a rhyming planet,
nor I cannot woo in festival terms. 19)
Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I called thee?
Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.
Bene. O, stay but till then!
Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now:
and yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came for,
which is, with knowing what hath passed between
you and Claudio.
Bene. Only foul words: and thereupon I will kiss thee.
Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is 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; 2) 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 all together; which maintained so politic 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.
SCENE III.
The inside of a Church.
Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and Attendants,
with Music and Tapers.
Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
Atten. It is, my lord.
Claud. [Reads from a scroll.]
D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other | And got a calf in that same noble feat, weeds;
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.co.id/books/content?id=dmdsAAAAIAAJ&hl=id&output=html_text&pg=PA124&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:NYPL33433081657797&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1iulweM8SsPsT7kDrjiWui_pLzjQ&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=67,128,477,169)
Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEAtrice, URSULA, Friar, and HERO.
Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accused
her,
Upon the terror that you heard debated:
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.
Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves;
And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd:
The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
To visit ine: You know your office, brother;
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies.
Ant. Which I will do with 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
Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her. Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from me, From Claudio, and the prince; But what's your will?
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.
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 determined
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?
Claud. I think, he thinks upon the savage bull:
Tush, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold,
And all Europa shall rejoice at thee;
As once Europa did at lusty Jove,
When he would play the noble beast in love.
Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low;
And some such strange bull leap'd your father's
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
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.
Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her hand
Before this friar, and swear to marry her.
Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar;
I am your husband, if you like of me.
Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife:
[Unmasking.
And when you lov'd, you were my other husband.
Claud. Another Hero?
Nothing certainer:
One Hero died defil'd; but I do live,
And, surely, as I live, I am a maid.
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?
Beat.
24) No, no more than reason.
Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and
Claudio,
Have been deceived; for they swore you did.
Beat. Do not you love me?
Bene.
No, no more than reason. 25) Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula,
Are much deceived; for they did swear, you did. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick
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.
Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves her;
For here's a paper, written in his band,
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 mouth. [Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married man?
Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of
wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour: Dost thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him: In brief, since I do propose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin.
Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldest have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer: which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.co.id/books/content?id=dmdsAAAAIAAJ&hl=id&output=html_text&pg=PA126&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:NYPL33433081657797&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3spYVigZCs56djVW2xTtzOFyp0fg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=66,123,892,621)
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.co.id/books/content?id=dmdsAAAAIAAJ&hl=id&output=html_text&pg=PA126&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:NYPL33433081657797&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3spYVigZCs56djVW2xTtzOFyp0fg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=68,736,471,77)
Enter THESEUs, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and
Attendants.
Theseus.
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 EGBUS, 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,
Thou hast by moon-light at her window sung,
And interchang'd love-tokens with my child:
With feigning voice, verses of feiguing love;
And stol'n the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, 1) conceits,
Knacks, 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,
As she is mine, I may dispose of her:
I beg the ancient privilege of Athens:
Which shall be either to this gentleman,
Or to her death; according to our law,
Immediately provided in that case.
The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid:
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. 2)
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
Her. So is Lysander.
In himself he is:
But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice,
The other must be held the worthier.
Her. I would, my father look'd but with my eyes.
The. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
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;
But I beseech your grace that I may know
The worst that may befal mne 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, 3) 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.
Lys. Or else misgraffed, in respect of years:
Her. O spite! too old to be engag'd to young!
Lys. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends:
Her. O hell! to choose love by another's eye!
Lys. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it;
Making it momentany as a sound, 7)
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,.8)
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;
As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs,
The. Take time to pause; and, by the next new moon Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers. ")
(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.
Ege. Scorn ful 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 spotted 5) and inconstant man.
The. 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.
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.co.id/books/content?id=dmdsAAAAIAAJ&hl=id&output=html_text&pg=PA127&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:NYPL33433081657797&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3nr6qoi9ToaZyFJ7QnP-YBKeNfcA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=216,1032,7,6)
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.
Ege. With duty, and desire, we follow you.
[Exeunt THES. HIP. EGE. DEM. and Train.
Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
Her. Belike, for want of rain: which I could well
Beteem) 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;
Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low!
Lys. 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 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.
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 by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen, 1o)
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.
Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
Hel. Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair: ) O happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars; 12) and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching; O, were favour so! 13)
Your's would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
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. 14)
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!
Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face;
Lysander and myself will fly this place.
Before the time I did Lysander see, 15)
|