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. [Eait ANTONIO. D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, Claud. I think, he thinks upon the savage bull:- Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low; And some such strange bull leap'd your father's And got a calf in that same noble feat, Much like to you, for you have just his bleat. [cow, Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked. Claud. For this I owe you here come other recWhich is the lady I must seize upon? [konings. Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she's mine: Sweet, let me see your face. [hand, Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her Before this friar, and swear to marry her. Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar Nothing certainer ; ; me. Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for [love me? Bene. 'Tis no such matter:- -Then you do not 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 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 fake 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 witcrackers 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 de 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. D. 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 Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; [lived. 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; What is your will? Bene. Do not you love me? [Unmasking.] Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and Have been deceived; for they swore you did. [sula, Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and UrAre much deceiv'd; for they did swear, you did. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me. Bene. Come, co me, we are friends :-let's have a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels..... Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Bene. First, 'o my word; therefore, play music.— Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn. This play may be justly said to contain two of the most sprightly characters that Shakspeare ever drew. The wit, the huniourist, the gentlemen, and the soldier, are combined in Benedick. It is to be lamented, indeed, that the first and most splendid of these distinctions, is disgraced by unnecessary profaneness for the goodness of his heart is hardly sufficient to atone for the license of his tongue. The too sarcastic evity, which flashes out in the conversation of Beatrice, may be exeased on account of the steadiness and friendship so apparent in her behaviour, when she urges her lover to risk his life by a challenge to Claudio. In the conduct of the fable, however, there is an imperfection similar to that which Dr. Johnson has pointed out in The Merry Wives of Windsor :-the second con trivance is less ingenious than the first-or, to speak more pleialy, the same incident is become stale by repetition. I wish some other method had been found to entrap Heatrice than that very one which before had been successfully prac ised on Benedick.-STELVENS. MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. This play was entered at Stationers' Hall, Oct. 8, 1600-And there were two editions of it published in quarto in that year Mr. Malone supposes it to have been written in 1594. It is distinguished by one of the strongest characteristics of our author's early plays-the recurrence of passages and scenes in rhyme. DEMETRIUS, S In love with Hermia. PHILOSTRATE, master of the revels to Theseus. SNUG, the joiner. STARVELING, the tailor. HIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons, betrothed to HERMIA, daughter to Egeus, in love with Lysander. OBERON, king of the fairies. TITANIA, queen of the fairies. PEAS-BLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARD-SEED, Pyramus, Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, Lion, characters ACT I. SCENE I.-Athens. A Room in the Palace of Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, The. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Go, Philostrate, The. 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! [thee? The. Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news with 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 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 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, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens ; The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid: The. Her. I would, my father look'd but with my eyes. If I refuse to wed Demetrius. The. Either to die the death, or to abjure Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord My soul consents not to give sovereignty. The. Take time to pause; and, by the next new (The sealing-day betwixt my love and me, [moon 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, Thy crazed title to my certain right. [yield 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; Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, And, which is more than all these boasts can be, 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; I must employ you in some business [Exeunt. THES. HIP. EGE. DEM. and train. Lys. How now, my love? Why is your cheek so How chance the roses there do fade so fast? [pale? Her. Belike for want of rain; which I could well Beteein them from the tempest of mine eyes. Lys. Ah me! for ought 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! Lys. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it; Making it momentary 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; As due to love, as thoughts and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's 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; Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away? Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. such skill! Her. I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face; Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: Her. And in the wood, where often you and I Lys. I will, my Hermia.--Helena adieu : "And Phibbus' car "Shall shine from far, "And make and mar "The foolish fates." This was lofty!-Now name the rest of the players. As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! [Erit Lys.-This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be! Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; [Exit. SCENE II.-The same. Enter SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, QUINCE, and STARVELING. me. A Room in a Cottage. Quin. Is all our company here? 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 more condoling. Quin. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. Quin. You must take Thisby on you. 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's 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 is 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 roar again. Quin. An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were enough to hang us all. All. That would hang us every mother's son. Bot. I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. Quin. You can play no part but Pyramus: for Pyramus is a sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely, gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs play Pyramus. I Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were best to play it in? Quin. Why, what you will. Bot. I will discharge it in either your strawcoloured beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-faced. But, masters; here are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by tomile without the town, by moon-light; there will morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a we rehearse for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not. Bot. We will meet; and there we may rehearse more obscenely, and courageously. Take pains; be perfect; adieu. Quin. At the duke's oak we meet. Bot. Enough; Hold, or cut bow-strings. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-A Wood near Athens. Enter a Fairy at one door, and Puck at another. Thorough bush, thorough briar, Thorough food, thorough fire, I do wander every where, To dew her orbs upon the green: The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In those freckles live their savours: : Puck. And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, [gone' SCENE II.-Enter OBERON, at one door, with his Obe. Tarry, rash wanton; Am not I thy lord? Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night And make him with fair Aglé break his faith, Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: By their increase, now knows not which is which: We are their parents and original. Obe. Do you amend it then it lies in you: Tita. Set your heart at rest, Fai. And here my mistress :-'Would that he were | Marking the embarked traders on the food; |