looked to.

D. Pedro. And hath challenged thee?

Leon. Art thou the slave, that with thy breath hast Claud. Most sincerely.

kill'd D. Pedro. What a pretty thing man is, when he goes Mine innocent child ? in his doublet and hose, and leaves off his wit!


Yea, even I alone. Claud. He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an Leon. No, not so, villain ; thou beliest thyself : ape a doctor to such a man.

Here stand a pair of honourable men, D. Pedro. But, soft you ; let me be : pluck up, my A third is filed, that had a hand in it.heart, and be sad. Did he not say, my brother was I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death : fled ?

Record it with your high and worthy deeds. Enter Dogberry, Verges, and the Watch, with 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. CONRADE and BORACHIO.

Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, Dogo. Come, you, sir : if justice cannot tame you, Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself; she shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance. Impose me to what penance your invention Nay, an you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be Can lay upon my sin : yet sinn'd I not,

But in mistaking D. Pedro. How now! two of my brother's men D. Pedro. By my soul, nor I; bound? Borachio, one ?

And yet, to satisfy this good old man, Claud. Hearken after their offence, my lord. I would bend under any heavy weight

D. Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men That he'll enjoin me to. done?

Leon. I cannot bid you cause my daughter live; Dogb. Marry, sir, they have committed false report; That were impossible; but, I pray you both, moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, Possess the people in Messina, here, they are slanders ; sixth and lastly, they have belied How innocent she died: and, if your

love a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust things; and, Can labour aught in sad invention, to conclude, they are lying knaves.

Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb, D. Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done? And sing it to her bones : sing it to-night.thirdly, I ask thee, what's their offence? sixth and lastly, To-morrow morning come you to my house, why they are committed ? and, to conclude, what you And since you could not be my son-in-law, lay to their charge?

Be yet my nephew. My brother hath a daughter, Claud. Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; Almost the copy of my child that's dead, and, by my troth, there's one meaning well suited. And she alone is heir to both of us :

D. Pedro. Whom have you offended, masters, that Give her the right you should have given her cousin, Fou are thus bound to your answer? this learned And so dies my revenge. cotistable is too cunning to be understood. What's Claud.

O noble sir ! vour offence?

Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me. Bora. Sweet prince, let me go no farther to mine I do embrace your offer, and dispose answer : do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I For henceforth of poor Claudio. have deceived even your very eyes : what your wis- Leon. To-morrow, then, I will expect your coming : doms could not discover, these shallow fools have To-night I take my leave. This naughty man brought to light; who, in the night, overheard me con- Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, fessing to this man, how Don John your brother, Who, I believe, was pact in all this wrong, incensed me to slander the lady Hero; how you were Hir'd to it by your brother. brought into the orchard, and saw me court Margaret Bora.

No, by my soul, she was not; in Hero's garments; how you disgraced her, when Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to me; you should marry her. My villainy they have upon But always hath been just and virtuous, record, which I had rather seal with my death, than in any thing that I do know by her. repeat over to my shame. The lady is dead upon

mine Dogb. Moreover, sir, which, indeed, is not under and my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I de- white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did sire nothing but the reward of a villain.

call me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his D. Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through punishment. And also, the watch heard them talk of your blood ?

one Deformed: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and Claud. I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it. a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's D. Pedro. But did my brother set thee on to this? name; the which he hath used so long, and never paid, Bora. Yea; and paid me richly for the practice of it. that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing D. Pedro. He is compos’d and fram'd of treachery.- for God's sake. Pray you, examine him upon that And fled he is upon this villainy.

point. Claud. Sweet Hero! now thine image doth appear Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. In the rare semblance that I loved it first.

Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most thankful Dogb

. Come ; bring away the plaintiffs : by this time and reverend youth, and I praise God for you. cit sexton hath reformed signior Leonato of the mat- Leon. There's for thy pains. tet. And masters, do not forget to specify, when time Dogb. God save the foundation ! and place shall serve, that I am an ass.

Leon. Go: I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I Perg. Here, here comes master signior Leonato, and thank thee. the sexton too.

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with your worship; Re-enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, and the Sexton. which, I beseech your worship, to correct yourself for Leon. Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes, the example of others. God keep your worship; I wish That wben I note another man like him,

your worship well: God restore you to health. I humbly I say avoid bim. Which of these is he?

give you leave to depart, and if a merry meeting may Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on be wished, God prohibit it.—Come, neighbour.

[Exeunt Dogberry, Verges, and Watch.



Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of Ant. Farewell, my lords : we look for you to my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Beat. For them all together; which maintained so D. Pedro. We will not fail.

politic a state of evil, that they will not admit any good Claud.

To-night I'll mourn with Hero. part to intermingle with them. But for which of my

[Exeunt Don PEDRO and Claudio. good parts did you first suffer love for me? Leon. Bring you these fellows on. We'll talk with Bene. Suffer love! a good epithet. I do suffer love, Margaret,

indeed, for I love thee against my will. How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. Beat. In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor

[Exeunt. heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for SCENE II.-Leonato's Garden.

yours ; for I will never love that which my friend hates.

Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting.

Beat. It appears not in this confession: there's not Bene. Pray thee, sweet mistress Margaret, deserve one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. well at my hands by helping me to the speech of Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived Beatrice.

in the time of good neighbours. If a man do not Marg. Will you, then, write me a sonnet in praise erect, in this age, his own tomb ere he dies, he shall of my beauty ?

live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man the widow weeps. living shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, Beat. And how long is that, think you? thou deservest it.

Bene. Question :-why an hour in clamour, and a Marg. To have no man come over me? why shall I quarter in rheum : therefore is it most expedient for always keep below stairs ?

the wise, (if Don Worm, his conscience, find no impeBene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth; diment to the contrary,) to be the trumpet of his own it catches.

virtues, as I am to myself. So much for praising Marg. And your's as blunt as the fencer's foils, myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is praiseworthy. which hit, but hurt not.

And now tell me, how doth your

cousin ? Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret; it will not hurt Beat. Very ill. a woman: and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice. I give Bene. And how do you? thee the bucklers.

Beat. Very ill too. Marg. Give us the swords, we have bucklers of our Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend. There will

I leave you too, for here comes one in haste. Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in

Enter URSULA. the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous weapons Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's for maids.

old coil at home : it is proved, my lady Hero hath been Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who, I think, falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily abused; hath legs.

(Exit Margaret. and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone. Bene. And therefore will come.

Will you come presently?
The god of love,

[Singing.] Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior?
That sits above,

Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and
And knows me, and knows me,

be buried in thy eyes; and, moreover, I will
How pitiful I deserve,-
thee to thy uncle's.

[Exeunt. I mean, in singing; but in loving, Leander the good

SCENE III.-The Inside of a Church. swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-mongers,

Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, with

music and tapers. whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned over

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato? and over, as my poor self, in love. Marry, I cannot Atten. It is, my lord. show it in rhyme; I have tried : I can find out no

Claud. [Reads.] rhyme to "lady” but “baby," an innocent rhyme; for “scorn," “horn,” a hard rhyme; for“ school, fool,

Done to death by slanderous tongues a babbling rhyme-very ominous endings. No, I was

Was the Hero that here lies : not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in

Death, in guerdon of her wrongs, festival terms.

Gives her fame which never dies.

So the life, that died with shame,
Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou come when I called thee?

Lives in death with glorious fame. Beat. Yea, signior; and depart when you bid me.

Hang thou there upon the tomb, Bene. O! stay but till then.

Praising her when I am dumb. Beat. “Then" is spoken; fare you well now :-and Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn. yet, ere go, let me go with that I came for; which is, with knowing what hath passed between you and

Pardon, goddess of the night, Claudio.

Those that slew thy virgin bright; Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.

For the which, with songs of woe, Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is

Round about her tomb we go. but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore

Midnight, assist our moan; I will depart unkissed.

Help us to sigh and groan, Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right

Heavily, heavily : sense, so forcible is thy wit. But, I must tell thee

Graves, yawn,

and yield your dead, plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge, and either I

Till death be uttered, must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a

Heavily, hearily.

go with



your face.

Claud. Now, unto thy bones good night!

And some such strange bull leap'd your

father's cow, Yearly will I do this rite.

And got a calf in that same noble feat, D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters: put your torches Much like to you, for you have just his bleat. out.

Re-enter Antonio, with the Ladies masked. The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle day, Claud. For this I owe you: here come other reckonBefore the wheels of Phoebus, round about

ings. Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey. Which is the lady I must seize upon ? Thanks to you all, and leave us : fare you well. Leon. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Good morrow, masters : each his way can Claud. Why, then she's mine.—Sweet, let me see tell.

[Ereunt Torch-bearers. D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and puton other weed; Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her hand And then to Leonato's we will go.

Before this friar, and swear to marry her. Claud. And Hymen now with luckier issue speed, Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar : Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe ! [Èxeunt. I am your husband, if you like of me. SCENE IV.-A Room in LEONATO's House.

Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife : Enter LEONATO, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice,


And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. URSULA, Friar, and Hero.

Claud. Another Hero? Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent ?


Nothing certainer.
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd her One Hero died belied; but I do live,
Upon the error that you heard debated :

And, surely as I live, I am a maid.
But Margaret was in some fault for this,

D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead! Although against her will , as it appears

Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander liv'd. In the true course of all the question.

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;
Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well. When after that the holy rites are ended,

Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death :
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Mean time, let wonder seem familiar,
Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, And to the chapel let us presently.
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,

Bene. Soft and fair, friar.—Which is Beatrice ?
And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd. Beat. I answer to that name. [Unmasking.] What
The prince and Claudio promis’d by this hour


will ? To visit me.-You know your office, brother;

Bene. Do not you love me? You must be father to your brother's daughter,


Why, no more than reason. And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies. Bene. Why, then, your uncle, and the prince, and Aat. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.

Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. Have been deceived, for they swore you did.
Friar. To do what, signior ?

Beat. Do not you love me?
Bene. To bind me, or undo me; one of them.- Bene.

Troth, no more than reason. Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,

Beat. Why, then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. Are much deceived; for they swore, you did.

Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: 'tis most true. Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for
Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.

Leon. The sight whereof, I think, you had from me, Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for
From Claudio, and the prince. But what's your will ?
Beae. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical :

Bene. It is no matter.— Then, you do not love me? But, for my will, my will is, your good will

Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd

Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleIn the state of honourable marriage :la which, good friar, I shall desire your help.

Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, that he loves her; Leon. My heart is with your liking.

For here's a paper, written in his hand, Friar.

And my help. A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Here come the prince, and Claudio.

Fashion'd to Beatrice. Eater Don Pedro and CLAUDIO, with Attendants.


And here's another, D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket, Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio : Containing her affection unto Benedick. We bere attend you. Are you yet determin'd

Bene. A miracle ! here's our own hands against our Today to marry with my brother's daughter? hearts.-Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I

Cised. I'll hold my mind were she an Ethiop. take thee for pity.
Los. Call her forth, brother: here's the friar ready. Beat. I would not deny you;-but, by this good day,

[Exit Antonio. I yield upon great persuasion, and, partly, to save your D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's life, for I was told you were in a consumption. the matter,

Bene. Peace! I will stop your mouth. That you have such a February face,

D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married & ftú of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?

man ? Cand. I think, he thinks upon the savage bull. Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of witTab! fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold, crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost Ad all Europa shall rejoice at thee,

thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: if As cace Europa did at lusty Jove,

a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall wear nothing When be would play the noble beast in love.

handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to Bee. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low;

marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the




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world can say against it; and therefore never flout at dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our me for what I have said against it, for man is a giddy own hearts, and our wives' heels. thing, and this is my conclusion.—For thy part, Leon. We'll have dancing afterward. Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but, in that Bene. First, of my word; therefore, play, music!thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife : love my cousin.

there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst have denied horn. Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy

Enter a Messenger. single life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look And brought with armed men back to Messina. exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow: I'll devise Bene. Come, come, we are friends.—Let's have a thee brave punishments for him.-Strike up, pipers.

[Dance of all the Actors.



CostaRD, a Clown. BIRON,

Moth, Page to Armado.

Lords, attending on the King. A Forester.
BOY ET, Lords, attending on the Princess Princess of France.
MERCADE, of France.

Don ADRIANO DE ARMADO, a Spaniard.

Maria, Ladies, attending on the Princess. Sir NATHANIEL, a Curate.

Katharine, HOLOFERNES, a Schoolmaster.

JAQUENETTA, a country wench. Dull, a Constable.

Officers and others, attendants on the King and Princess.

SCENE, Navarre.

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SCENE I.-Navarre. A Park, with a Palace in it. Enter the King, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DumaiNE.

King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring time, Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour, which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity. Therefore, brave conquerors !—for so you are, That war against your own affections, And the huge army of the world's desires,Our late edict shall strongly stand in force. Nararre shall be the wonder of the world : Our court shall be a little Academe, Still and contemplative in living art. You three, Biron, Dumaine, and Longaville, Have sworn for three years' term to live with me, My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes, That are recorded in this schedule here: (Showing it. Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your names, That his own hand may strike his honour down, That violates the smallest branch herein.

you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep them too.

Long. I am resolv'd : 'tis but a three years' fast.
The mind shall banquet, though the body pine:
Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits.

Dum. My loving lord, Dumaine is mortified.
The grosser manner of this world's delights
He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves :
To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die,
With all these living in philosophy.

Biron. I can but say their protestation over ;
So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
That is, to live and study here three years.
Bat there are other strict observances;
ls, not to see a woman in that term,

Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there:
And, one day in a week to touch no food,
And but one meal on every day beside,
The which, I hope, is not enrolled there :
And then, to sleep but three hours in the night,
And not be seen to wink of all the day,
When I was wont to think no harm all mght,
And make a dark night, too, of half the day,
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there.
0! these are barren tasks, too hard to keep,
Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep.

King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these.

Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please. I only swore to study with your grace, And stay here in your court for three years' space.

Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. Biron. By yea, and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study, let me know? King. Why, that to know which else we should not

know. Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from

common sense ?
King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense.

Biron. Come on, then: I will swear to study so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know;
As thus,—to study where I well may dine,

When I to feast expressly am forbid;
Or study where to meet some mistress fine,

When mistresses from common sense are hid;
Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
If study's gain be this, and this be so,
Study knows that which yet it doth not know.
Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no.

King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our intellects to vain delight.

Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain : As painfully to pore upon a book,

To seek the light of truth; while truth the while

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