Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, 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 me. 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, 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; Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice? Bene. Do not you love me? Have been deceived; for they swore you did. 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. 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 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 might 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. 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. • Because. SCENE I.—Athens. A Room in the Palace of Theseus. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and Attendants. 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. Four nights will quickly dream away the time; The. 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 :— Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens; The. What say you, Hermia? be advised, fair maid: To you your father should be as a god; 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. In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts: 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, 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. 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: Her. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low! 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 Of great revenue, and she hath no child: Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia :-And, Lysander, And she respects me as her only son. yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. Lys. You have her father's love, Demetrius : 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? 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 1 Wicked. There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; Her. My good Lysander! By that which knitteth souls, and prospers loves; My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody. Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Hel. O, that 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. Her. Take comfort; he no more shall see my face, Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me: O then, what graces in my love do dwell, Lys. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold! Things base and vile, holding no quantity, 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 weaver. Bot. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed. Quin. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Py ramus. Bot. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant. Quin. A lover, that kills himself most gallantly for love. 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 humor is for a tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. "The raging rocks, "With shivering shocks, "Shall break the locks "Of prison gates: "And Phibbus' car "And make and mar "The foolish fates." 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. 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 most lovely, 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 strawcolored beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-color 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 to-morrow 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 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. ACT II. SCENE I-A Wood near Athens. Thorough bush, thorough briar, Thorough flood, thorough fire, In those freckles live their savors: Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite, 1 As if. Thou speak'st aright; 2 Circles. A term of contempt. • Mill. Yeast. [Exeunt. I am that merry wanderer of the night. Fai. And here my mistress :-'Would that he were gone! SCENE II. Enter OBERON, at one door, with his train, and TITANIA, at another, with hers. Obe. Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. Tita. What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence; I have forsworn his bed and company. Obe. Tarry, rash wanton: Am not I thy lord? Tita. Then I must be thy lady: But I know When thou hast stol'n away from fairy land, And in the shape of Corin sat all day, Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here, Come from the farthest steep of India? But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, Your buskin'd mistress, and your warrior love, To Theseus must be wedded; and you come To give their bed joy and prosperity. Obe. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania, From Perigenia, whom he ravished? Tita. These are the forgeries of jealousy: |