Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn. kiss thee. Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind SONG, is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome ; there- Pardo, Goddess of the night, fore I will depart unkissed. Those that slew thy virgin knight ; Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his For the which, with songs of woe, night sense, so forcible is thy wit: But, I must tell Round about her tomb they go. thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge ; and Midnight, assist our mwan; either I must shortly hear from him, or I will sub Help us to sigh and groan, scribe him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, Heuvily, heavily: for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love Graves, yaun, and yield your dead, with me? Till death be uttered, Beat. For them all together ; which maintained Heuvenly, heuvenly. so politic a state of evil, that they will not admit Claud. Now unto thy bones good night! any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of iny good parts did you first suffer to love me Yearly will I do this rite. [out D.Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches Bene. Super love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will. The wolves have prey'd: and look the gentle Beat. lo spite of Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about (Jay, your heart, I think ; alas! poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray : yours; for I will never love that which my friend Thanks to you all, and leave us ; fare you weli. hates. Cluud. Good morrow, masters ; each his several Beno. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. way. (weeds; Beat. It appears not in this confession : there's D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other (speeds, not one wise man among twenty, that will praise And then to Leonato's we will go. himself. Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier issue Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe! lived in the time o. good neighbours : if a man do (Eseunt. not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he SCENE IV-A Room in Leonato's House. shall live no longer in mouunient, than the bell rings, and the widow Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, weeps. Beat. And how long is that, think you ? URSULA, Friar, and HERO. Bene. Question ?- Why, an hour in clamour, and Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent ? • quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most expedient Levn. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd for the wise, (if Don Worm, his conscience, find no Upon the error that you have heard debated : (her, impediment to the contrary,) to be the trumpet of But Margaret was in some fault for this ; his own virtues, as I am to myself : So much for Although against her will, as it appears praising myself, (who, I myself will bear witness, is in the true course of all the question. praise-worthy,) and now tell me, How doth your Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well. cousin ? Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd Beat. Very ill. To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Bene. And how do you ? Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, Beut. l'ery ill too Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; To visit me :- You know your office, brother ; You must be father to your brother's daughter, Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle, yon. And give her to young Claudio (Eseunt Ladies der's old coil at home: it is proved, my lady llero Ani. Which I will do with confirm d countenance. hath becn falsely accused, the prince and Claudio Bene Friar, I must intreat your pains, I think. anghtily abus'u ; and Don John is the author of all, Friar. To do what, signior who is Aed and gone ; will you come presently? Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them. Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior ? Signior Leonato, truth it is. good signior, Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in ihy lap, and your niece regards me with an eye of favour. (true. be buried in thy eyes ; and, moreover, I will go Leon. That eye my daughter lent her ; 'Tis most with thee to thy uncle's. (Eseunt. Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her. Levn. The sight, whereof, I think, you had from SCENE III.- The Inside of a Church. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, with From Claudio and the prince ; But what's your music and tapers. Bere. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical: [will ? Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato ? But, for my will, my will is, your good will Atten. It is, my lord. May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd Claud. (Reads from a scroll.] To the estate of honourable marriage : In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. Lern. 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. Hang thou there upon the tomb, (affixing it. Leon. Good morrow, prince ; good morrow; Praising her when I am dumb. Claudio ; me, nie. your face. We here attend you; Are you yet deternin'd Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for To-day to marry with my brother's daughter? (love me? Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope. Bene. 'Tis no such matter : .:—Then you do not Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. ready. ( Elit Antonio. Leon. Come, cousin, 1 ain sure you love the genD. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's tleman. the matter, Claud. And I 'll be sworn upon 't, that he loves her ; That you have such a February face, For here's a paper, written in his hand, A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, And here's another. Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, As once Europa did at lusty Jove, Containing her affection unto Benedick. Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low; our hearts !--Come, I will have thee ; but, by this save your life, for I was told you were in a conRe-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked. sumption. Claud. For this I owe you : here come other reco Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth. (Kissing her. Which is the lady I must seize upon ? [konings. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. man? Claud. Why, then she's mine: Sweet, let me see Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit [hand, crackers cannot fout me out of my humour: Dost Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: Before this friar, and swear to marry her. if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar ; nothing handsome about him : In brief, since I do I am your husband, if you like of me. propose to marry, I will think nothing to any pur. Hero. And when I lived, I was your other wife : pose that the world can say against ii ; and there. [Unmasking. fore never flout at me for what I have said against And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my concluClaud. Another Hero ? sion. — For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have Hero. Nothing certainer ; beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsOne Hero died defil'd; but I do live, man, live unbruised, and love my cousin. And, surely as I live, I am a maid. Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst have deD. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead ! nied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out Leon. She died my lord, but whiles her slander of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer ; Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; (lived. which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin When, after that the holy rites are ended, do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death • Bene. Come, ci me, we are friends :- let's have a Mean tiine, let wonder seem familiar, dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our And to the chapel let us presently. own hearts, and our wives' heels. Bene. Soft and fair, friar.- Which is Beatrice? Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Beat. I answer to that name; [Unmusking.) Bene. First, 'o my word; therefore, play music.What is your will? Prince, thou art sad ; get thee a wife, get thee a Bene. Do not you love me? wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped Beat. No, no more than reason. with horn. Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and Claudio, Enter a Messenger. Have been deceived ; for they swore you did. Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in Beat. Do not you tove me? fight, Bene. No, no more than reason. (sula, And brought with armed men back to Messina. Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ur- Bene. Think not on him till tomorrow ; I'll doAre much deceiv'd; for they did swear, you did. vise thee brave punishments for him.-Strike up. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me. pipers. (Dance. Exeunt This play may be justly said to contain two of the most in her behaviour, when she urges her lover to risk his life by prightly characters that Shakspeare ever drew. The wit, the a challenge to laudio. !n the conduct of the fable, howerer, budiourist, the gentleman, and the soldier, are combined in there is an inperfection similar to that which Dr. Johnson has Bepedick. It is to be memed, indeed, that the first and most pointed out in The Merry Ilives of Il'indsur :-ihe second coir plendid of these distinctions, is disgraced by onnecessary lirivance is less ingenious than the first :- or, to speak more profaneness : for the goodness of his heart is hardly sufficient liialy, the same incident is become stale by repetition. I to atope for ibe license of his tongue. I he ton sarcastic ievity, wish some other method had been found to estrap Beatrico which flashes out in the conversation of Beatrice, may be ex.lihan that very one which before had been successfully prac rased on account of the sleadiness and friendship so apparent : sed on Benedick.-STEAVENS. This play was entered at Stationers' Hall. Oct. 8, 1600.- And there were two editions of it published in quarto in that your Mr. Malone supposes it to have been written in 1594. It is distinguished by one of the strongest characteristics of ou author's early plays-the recurrence of passages and scenes in rhyme. PERSONS REPRESENTED. Ege. Full of vexation come I, with complaint THESEUS, Duke of Athens. 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, DEMETRICS, In love with Hermia. This hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child : PHILOStRate, master of the revels to Theseus. Thou, thou. Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes Quince, the carpenter. SNUG, the joiner. And interchang'd love-tokens with my child: BOTTOM, The weaver. 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, Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweet. meats; messengers HIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth : With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart To stubborn harshness :- And, my gracious duke, ONERON, king of the fairies. Be it so she will not here before your grace TITANIA, queen of the fairies. Consent to marry with Demetrius, Puck, m Robin-good fellow, a fairy. I beg the ancient privilege of Athens ; Peas-BLOSSOM, Cobweb, Mors, MUSTARD-SEED, As she is mine, I may dispose of her : fairies. Which shall be either to this gentleman, The. What say you, Hermia ? be advis'd, fair maid. To you your father should be as a god; One thai compos’d your beauties; yea, and one To leave the figure, or disfigure it. Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. Her. So is Lysander. SCENE I.-Athens. A Room in the Palace of The. In himself he is : But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice Her. I would, my father look'd but with my eyes The. Now, fair llippolyta, our nuptial hour The. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. Draws on apace ; four happy days bring in Her. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. Another moon : but, oh, methinks, how slow I know not by what power l am made bold ; This old moon wanes ! she lingers my desires, Nor how it may concern my modesty, Like to a step-dame, or a dowager, In such a presence here to plead my thoughts : Tong withering out a young man's revenue. (nights; But I beseech your grace that I may know Hip. Four days will quickly steep themselves in The worst that may befal me in this case, Four nights will quickly dream away the time; If I refuse to wed Demetrius. And then the moon, like to a silver bow The Either to die the death, or to abjure Now bent in heaven, shall behold the night For ever the society of men. Of our solemnities. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, The. Go, Philostrate, Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments ; Whether, if you yield not to your father's choico, Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth ; You can endure the livery of a nun; Turn melancholy forth to funerals, For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd, The pale companion is not for our pomp. To live a barren sister all your life, [Edit PHILOSTRATE. Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword, Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood And won thy love, doing thee injuries; To undergo such maiden pilgrimage : But I will wed thee in another key, But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, With poinp. with triumph, and with revelling. Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. Enter Egeus, Hermia, LYSanden, and DEMETRIUS. Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord Ege. Happy be Theseus, o ir renowned duke! [thee? Ere I will yield my virgin patent up The. Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news with Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke |