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; 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 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.

Dogb. Ileave an arrant knave with your worship; which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your worship; I wish your worship well; God restore you to health; I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it!- Come, neigh-politic a state of evil, that they will not admit any bour. [Exeunt Dogberry, Verges, andWatch. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell! Ant.Farewell, myl y lords; we look for you to-morrow. D. Pedro. We will not fail.

SCENE II.-Leonato's garden. Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting. Bene. Pray thee, sweet mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands, by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.

Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou deservestit.

Marg To have no man come over me? why, shall I always keep below stairs?

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth:

I mean, in singing; but in loving, -Leander the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pandars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-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; Ihave tried; I can find out ho rhyme to lady but baby, an innocent rhyme; for scorn, horn, a hard rhyme; for school, fool, a babbling rhyme: very ominous endings! No, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms.

Enter BEATRICE.

SweetBeatrice, would'st thou, come when I called thee?
Beat. Yea, signior, and depart, when you bid me.

I

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 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 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.

and

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 : 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.

gone:

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.]

Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,

Gives her fame, which never dies:
So the life, that died with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb
Praising her when I am dumb!

[Affixing it.

Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn!

Leon.So are the prince and Claudio, who accused her Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.

handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to | dance, ere we are married, that we may lighten our own marry, I will think nothing to any purpose, that the hearts, and our wives' heels! world can say against it; and therefore never flout at Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play, music!thing, and this is my conclusion. For thy part, Clau-Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife! dio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou there is no staff more reverend, than one tipped with art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my horn. cousin!

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 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 al

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. 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.

SCENE I.—Athens. A room in the palace of Theseus.
Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and Attend-

ants.

The. 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
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.

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,
in 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 stolen the impression of her fantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, 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,

[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.

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 ofher:
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 advised, 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.
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.

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 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.

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 Hippolita; what cheer, my love?—
Demetrius and Egeus, go along;

I must employ you in some bussiness
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. Or else misgraffed, in respect of years ;—
Her. O spite! too old to be engaged 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,
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. Ifthen 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.

Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would;

Or on Diana's altar to protest,

Foraye, austerity and single life.

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

Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia!-And, Lysander, yield Cannot pursue us: if thou lov'st me then,

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;
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; mylove 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 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.-But, Demetrius, come;
And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,

I have some private schooling for you both.

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 by that fire, which burn'd the Carthage 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 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!
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.
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

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