No, no more than reason. Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, and Clandio, Have been deceived: for they swore you did. Bene. No, no more than reason. Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Are much deceiv'd for they did swear, you did. 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. Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against ou 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 witcrackers cannot flout me out of my humo nour: 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 purpose 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 ruake 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 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 and the seven following leaves are to be placed immediatly before Sheet K. The. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee? With bracelets of thy bair, rings, gawds, conceits, The. What say you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid: To you your father should be as a god; One that compos'd your beauties; yea, and one 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. In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts: The. Either to die the death, or to abjure To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, 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. 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, you both. My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come; [Exeunt The. 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? - Lys. Ah mel for aught that ever I could read, Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low! 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; ts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers. Lys. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Her I have a widow aunt, a dowager Of great revenue, and she hath no child: [mia. From Athens is her house remote seven leagues; Her. My good Lysander! I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow; The. Take time to pause and, by the next new By his best arrow with the golden head; 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. Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia; -A Hermia;-And, 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; Lys. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, And, which is more than all these boasts can be, Why should not I then prosecute my right? And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes, By the simplicity of Venus' doves; By that which knitteth souls, and prospers, loves; Lys. Keep promise, love: look, here comes Helena. Enter Helena. Her. God speed fair Helena! Whither away? When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O, hat your frowns would teach my smiles 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. 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. Her. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. Hel. None, but your your beauty; were mine! 'would that fault Her. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face; Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold; Upon faint primrose-beds were wontt o lie, Lys. I will, my Hermia. Helena, adieu: [Exit Lysander. Hel. How happy some, o'er other some can be ! Things base and vile, holding no quantity, : For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne, [Exit. SCENE IL The same. A Room in a Cottage. Enter Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, and Starveling. 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, rst, 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 "The raging rocks, With shivering shocks, "Shall break the locks "Of prison-gates: "And Phibbus' car "Shall shine from far, "And make and mar "The foolish fates." This was lofty!-Now name the rest of the players. -This is Ercles' vein: a tyrant's vein; a 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. Star. Here, Peter Quince. 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 beart 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 discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking 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 mosti ovely, gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs play Pyramus. Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I 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 tomorrow night: and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse: for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogg'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. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. A Wood near Athens. Enter a Fairy at one Door, and Puck at another. Thorough bush, thorough briar, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dew-drops here, Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night From Perigenia, whom he ravished? Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, Puck. The king doth keep his revels here to- And the quaint mazes in the wanton green Take heed, the queen come not within his sight, A lovely boy, stol'n from an Indian king; She never had so sweet a changeling: And jealous Oberon would have the child Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild: But she, perforce, withholds the loved boy, For lack of tread, are undistinguishable: Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy: And on old Hyems' chin, and icy crown, And now they never meet in grove, or green, By fountain clear, or spangled star-light sheen, But they do square that all their elves, for fear, Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite, Skim milk; and sometimes labour in the quern, Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe; A merrier hour was never wasted there. But room, Faery, here comes Oberon. An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Obe. Do you amend it then; it lies in you: Why should Titania cross her Oberon ? I do but beg a little changeling boy, Tita. Set your heart at rest, The fairy land buys not the child of me. 'squire,) Would imitate; and sail upon the land, Obe. How long within this wood intend you stay? If you will patiently dance in our round, Fai. And here my mistress:-'Would that he And see our moonlight revels, go with us; were gone! SCENE II. Enter Oberon, at one Door, with his Train, and Obe. Ill met, by moonlight, proud Titania. Obe. Tarry, rash wanton; Am not I thy lord ? Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, Glance at my credit with Hippolyta, Obe. Having once this juice, [Exit. Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, The next thing then she waking looks upon, (Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,) Enter Demetrius, Helena following him. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. Dem. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair ? Hel. And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you; What worser place can I beg in your love Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick, when I de look on thee. Hel. And I am sick when I look not on you. To leave the city, and commit yourself Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Dem. I will not stay thy questions: let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do: We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well. [Exeunt Dem. and Hel. Obe. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this Thou shalt tly him, and he shall seek thy love. grove, I pray thee, give it me. I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, SCENE III. Another Part of the Wood. Tita. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song; SONG. 1 Fai. You spotted snakes, with double tongue, Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen; Newts, and blind worms, do no wrong; Come not near our fairy queen: Chorus. Philomel, with melody, Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, ulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby : So, good night, with lullaby. II. 2 Fai. Weaving spiders, come not here; Beetles black, approach no Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence: not near: Worm, nor snail, do no offence. Chorus. Philomel, with melody, &c. 2 Fai. Hence, away; now all is well: One, aloof, stand sentinel. [Exeunt Fairies. Titania sleeps. Enter Oberon, Obe. What thou seest when thou dost wake, [Squeezes the Flower on Titania's Eyelids. Do it for thy true love take; [Exit. Enter Lysander and Hermia. Lys. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; And, to speak truth, I have forgot our way; We'll rest us, Hermia, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Her. Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will rest my head. Lys. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth. Her. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near. Lys. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence: Love takes the meaning, in love's conference. I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit, |