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; 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. Pardon, goddess of the night, Graves, yawn, and yield your dead, Claud. Now, unto thy bones good night! D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your The wolves have prey'd; and look, the Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peace-Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. ably. 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 rheum: 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 coilt 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, die in thy lap. and be buried in thy eyes; and, moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's. [Exeunt SCENE III.-The Inside of a Church. Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and ATTENDANTS with Music and Tapers. Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato? Done to death by slanderous tongues Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several way. D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on And then to Leonato's we will go. Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe! SCENE IV.-A Room in LEONATO's House. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEA TRICE, URSULA, FRIAR, and HERO. Upon the error that you heard debated: Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd coun In the estate of honourable marriage;- Here comes the prince, and Claudio. Enter Don PEDRO and CLAUDIO, with Attendants. D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. We here attend you; are you yet determin'd That you have such a February face, Which is the lady I must seize upon? eon. No, that you shall not, till you take Before this friar, and swear to marry her. Claud. Another Hero? Hero. Nothing certainer: One Hero died defil'd; but I do live, D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is gentleman. Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves Hero. And here's another, 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.- 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 wouldst 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. Bene. Come, come, we are friends:-let's have a dance ere we are married, that we may Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slan-lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels. der lived. Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Bea- Beat. I answer to that name; [Unmasking.] Bene. Do not you love me? Have been deceived; for they swore you did. Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play, The. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Four nights will quickly dream away the time; The. Go, Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments; 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: * Shows. Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes, And interchang'd love-tokens with my child: Thou hast by moon-light at her window sung, With feigning voice, verses of feigning love; And stol'n the impression of her fantasy With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, [gers Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats; messenOf 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, Be it so she will not here before your grace I beg the ancient privilege of Athens; The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid: To you your father should be as a god; T In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts: The. Either to die the death, or to abjure Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, new moon, (The sealing-day betwixt my love and me, 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. Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love; And what is mine my love shall render him; Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, The. I must confess, that I have heard so much, [thereof; And with Demetrius thought to have spoke But, being over-full of self-affairs, My mind did lose it.-But, Demetrius, come; I have some private schooling for you both.— How chance the roses there do fade so fast? + Wicked. Ever 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. 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? And ere a man hath power to say;-Behold! [sighs, As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and I have a widow aunt, a dowager And she respects me as her only son. Her. My good Lysander! I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow; 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 ; 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! Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your [melody eye, My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, The rest I'll give to be to you translated. 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.-- O then, what graces in my love do dwell, and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind: Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip. 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. Bot. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it: If I do it, let the audience look to their 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, This was lofty!-Now name the rest of the players.-This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein ; à 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. Bot. Well, proceed. Quin. Robin Starveling, the tailor. Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.-Tom Snout, the tinker. Snout. Here, Peter Quince. Quin. You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisby's father;-Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part-and, I hope, here is a play fitted. Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. Quin. You may do it extempore, for it nothing but roaring. Bot. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say, Let him roar again, Let him rear again. |