in tais punishment: And also the watch heard them talk of one Deformed: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows inoney in God's name; the which he hath used so lon, and never paid, that now men grow hardhearted, and will lend nothing for God's sake: Pra y you, examine him upon that point.

Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. Dogh. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverend youth; and I praise God for you. Lon. There's for thy pains.

Dogb. God save the foundation!

Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee.

Dugb. I leave 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, neighbor.

Ex. DOG BERY, VERGES, and Watch. Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to

morrow.

D. Pedro. We will not fail.
Claud.

To-night I'll mourn with Hero. [Exeunt Don PEDRO and CLAUDIO. Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'll talk with Margaret,

How her acquaintance grew with this lewds fellow. Exeunt.

SCENE IL-Leonato's Garden. Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting. Bent. 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!

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

thou deserves it.

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, it catches.

Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and so I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give thee the bucklers.

Marg. Give us the sword, we have bucklers of our own.

Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous

weapons for maids.

Marg well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I aink, hath legs. [Exit MARGARET.

Bene. And therefore will come.

The gol of love,

That sits above,

And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deserve,

[Singing.]

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; I have tried; I can find out no 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 festivial terms.

Enter BEATRICE.

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called Chee!

Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. Bne. 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 'ou and Claudio.

Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will tiss thee.

• Wicked.

Beat. Foul words are 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.

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 neighbors: 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 clamor, and a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most expedient for the wise, (if don Worm his consciense 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 coils 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 tled 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 ?
Atten. It is, my lord.

Claud. [Reads from a scroll.]

before the wheels of Phœbus, round about Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey: Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several way.

D. Pedro. Čome, let us hence, and put on other weeds;

And then to Leonato's we will go.

Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier.issue speeds,

Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe!

[Exeunt. FCENE IV.A Room in Leonato's House. Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE, URSULA, Friar, and HERO.

Friat Did I not tell you she was innocent? Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd her,

Upor. the error 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 iaith enforc'd To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Well, daughter, and you, gentlewoman all, Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves; And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd: The prince and Claudio promised by this hour To visit me: You know your office, brother; You must be father to your brother's daughter, And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Luties. 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 favor. Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: "Tis most

true.

me,

Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from
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 honorable marriage;-

In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.
Leon. 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.
Leon. Good morrow, prince: good morrow, Clau-
dio;

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.
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

cow, And got a calf in that same noble feat, . 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 apon?

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 ine. Hero. And when I lived I was your other wife: [Unmasking

And when you loved, you were my other husband. Claud. Another Hero?

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.
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 you not love me?
Bene.
No, no more than reason.
Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.
Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret,and Ursula,
Bene. They swore that you were almost sick
for me.

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 hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero.

Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, And here's another, 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 humor: 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 cous.n do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends.- let's have a dance, ere we are married, that we might lighten our own hearts and our wives' heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

Bene. First, on 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.

The. Now, fair Hyppolyta, our nuptual 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 wooed 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! 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 bewitched the bosom of my child: Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,

And interchanged love-tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moonlight 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, gauds, 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,

I beg the ancient privilege of Athens;
As she is mine, I may dispose of her:
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, fait 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, want ng 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 judgmen

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 fant 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, Ives, 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.

The. Take time to pause; and, by the next new

moon,

(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.

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 signs Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.

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 inarry 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!

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:
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
on 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.-
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 nuptual; 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 engag'd to young!
Lus. 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 momentanys 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:
to quick bright things come to confusion.
Her. If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,
1 Wicked.
2 Give, bestow.

In number more than ever woman 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.

More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching; 0, were favor so!
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your ey
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melo
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'll give to be to you translated.
0, 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 smile. 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,
Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me:

then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turn'd a heaven unto hell! Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold To-morrow night when Phoebe oth behold Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, (A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,) Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal. Her. And in the wood, where often you and I Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet; There my Lysander and myself shall meet: And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, To seek new friends and stranger companies. Farewell, sweet play-fellow; pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius! Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight From lovers' food, till morrow deep midnight. Erit HERM

Lys. I will, my Hermia-Helena, adieu: As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! | Erit Lrs Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;