We here attend you; are you yet determined [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. And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow, Much like to you, for you have just his bleat. Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked. Claud. For this I owe you: here comes other reckonings. Which is the lady I must seize upon? Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why then she's mine: Sweet, let me see your face. 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 defiled; 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. When, after that the holy rites are ended, I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death: Meantime, 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 not you love me? Bene. No, no more than reason. Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Are much deceived; 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? Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman. A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Hero. And here's another, Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, 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 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 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 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. 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. *Because. [Dance. [Exeunt. SCENE.-Athens, and a Wood not far from it. ACT I. 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 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 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 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! The. Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news with thee? To stubborn harshness :-And, my gracious duke, Consent to marry with Demetrius, 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; One that composed 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. Her. So is Lysander. 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. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. I know not by what power I am made bold; In such a presence here, to plead my thoughts; * Shows. † Baubles. But I beseech your grace that I may know The. Either to die the death, or to abjure Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, For aye* to be in shady cloister mew'd, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, 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, Or else, to wed Demetrius, as he would: For aye, austerity and single life. Dem. Relent, sweet Hermia;-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; And what is mine my love shall render him; I do estate unto Demetrius. Lys. I am, my lord, as well derived 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, Why should not I then prosecute my right? Upon this spotted+ and inconstant man. The. I must confess, that I have heard so much, And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof; |