For parting my fair Pyramus and me!
My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones,
Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
Pyramus
I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
To spy an I can hear my Thisby’s face. Thisby!
Thisbe
My love thou art, my love I think.
Pyramus
Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace;
And, like Limander, am I trusty still.
Thisbe
And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
Pyramus
Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
Thisbe
As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
Pyramus
O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!
Thisbe
I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all.
Pyramus
Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?
Thisbe
’Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.
Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe
Wall
Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
Exit
Theseus
Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.
Demetrius
No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.
Hippolyta
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
Theseus
The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Hippolyta
It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
Theseus
If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.
Enter Lion and Moonshine
Lion
You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear
The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
May now perchance both quake and tremble here,
When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am
A lion-fell, nor else no lion’s dam;
For, if I should as lion come in strife
Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.
Theseus
A very gentle beast, of a good conscience.
Demetrius
The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw.
Lysander
This lion is a very fox for his valour.
Theseus
True; and a goose for his discretion.
Demetrius
Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.
Theseus
His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.
Moonshine
This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;—
Demetrius
He should have worn the horns on his head.
Theseus
He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference.
Moonshine
This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;
Myself the man i’ the moon do seem to be.
Theseus
This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else the man i’ the moon?
Demetrius
He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.
Hippolyta
I am aweary of this moon: would he would change!
Theseus
It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time.
Lysander
Proceed, Moon.
Moonshine
All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.
Demetrius
Why, all these should be in the lanthorn; for all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.
Enter Thisbe
Thisbe
This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love?
[Enter Lion, Roaring]
Oh —
[Thisbe runs off]
Demetrius
Well roared, Lion.
Theseus
Well run, Thisbe.
Hippolyta
Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace.
The Lion shakes Thisbe’s mantle, and exits
Theseus
Well moused, Lion.
Lysander
And so the lion vanished.
Demetrius
And then came Pyramus.
Enter Pyramus
Pyramus
Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,
I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.
But stay, O spite!
But mark, poor knight,
What dreadful dole is here!
Eyes, do you see?
How can it be?
O dainty duck! O dear!
Thy mantle good,
What, stain’d with blood!
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!
Theseus
This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
Hippolyta
Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
Pyramus
O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?
Since lion vile hath here deflower’d my dear:
Which is — no, no — which was the fairest dame
That lived, that loved, that liked, that look’d with cheer.
Come, tears, confound;
Out, sword, and wound
The pap of Pyramus;
Ay, that left pap,
Where heart doth hop:
Stabs himself
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
Now am I dead,
Now am I fled;
My soul is in the sky:
Tongue, lose thy light;
Moon take thy flight:
Exit Moonshine
Now die, die, die, die, die.
Dies
Demetrius
No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
Lysander
Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.
Theseus
With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, and prove an ass.
Hippolyta
How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover?
Theseus
She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.
Re-enter Thisbe
Hippolyta
Methinks she should not use a long one for such a
Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.
Demetrius
A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better; he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.
Lysander
She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
Demetrius
And thus she means, videlicet:—
Thisbe
Asleep, my love?
What, dead, my dove?
O Pyramus, arise!
Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
Dead, dead? A tomb
Must cover thy sweet eyes.
These lily lips,
This cherry nose,
Thes
e yellow cowslip cheeks,
Are gone, are gone:
Lovers, make moan:
His eyes were green as leeks.
O Sisters Three,
Come, come to me,
With hands as pale as milk;
Lay them in gore,
Since you have shore
With shears his thread of silk.
Tongue, not a word:
Come, trusty sword;
Come, blade, my breast imbrue:
[Stabs herself]
And, farewell, friends;
Thus Thisby ends:
Adieu, adieu, adieu.
[Dies]
Theseus
Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
Demetrius
Ay, and Wall too.
Bottom
[Starting up] No assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company?
Theseus
No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there needs none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe’s garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But come, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone.
A dance
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:
Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time.
I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn
As much as we this night have overwatch’d.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels and new jollity.
Exeunt
Enter Puck
Puck
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate’s team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow’d house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
Enter Oberon and Titania with their train
Oberon
Through the house give gathering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every elf and fairy sprite
Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty, after me,
Sing, and dance it trippingly.
Titania
First, rehearse your song by rote
To each word a warbling note:
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.
Song and dance
Oberon
Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray.
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue there create
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be;
And the blots of Nature’s hand
Shall not in their issue stand;
Never mole, hare lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.
With this field-dew consecrate,
Every fairy take his gait;
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace;
And the owner of it blest
Ever shall in safety rest.
Trip away; make no stay;
Meet me all by break of day.
Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and train
Puck
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
Exit
Much Ado About Nothing
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
ACT I
SCENE I. BEFORE LEONATO’S HOUSE.
SCENE II. A ROOM IN LEONATO’S HOUSE.
SCENE III. THE SAME.
ACT II
SCENE I. A HALL IN LEONATO’S HOUSE.
SCENE II. THE SAME.
SCENE III. LEONATO’S ORCHARD.
ACT III
SCENE I. LEONATO’S GARDEN.
SCENE II. A ROOM IN LEONATO’S HOUSE
SCENE III. A STREET.
SCENE IV. HERO’S APARTMENT.
SCENE V. ANOTHER ROOM IN LEONATO’S HOUSE.
ACT IV
SCENE I. A CHURCH.
SCENE II. A PRISON.
ACT V
SCENE I. BEFORE LEONATO’S HOUSE.
SCENE II. LEONATO’S GARDEN.
SCENE III. A CHURCH.
SCENE IV. A ROOM IN LEONATO’S HOUSE.
CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
DON PEDRO, prince of Arragon.
DON JOHN, his bastard brother.
CLAUDIO, a young lord of Florence.
BENEDICK, a young lord of Padua.
LEONATO, governor of Messina.
ANTONIO, his brother.
BALTHASAR, attendant on Don Pedro.
CONRADE and BORACHIO, followers of Don John.
FRIAR FRANCIS,
DOGBERRY, a constable.
VERGES, a headborough.
A SEXTON.
A BOY.
HERO, daughter to Leonato.
BEATRICE, niece to Leonato.
MARGARET and URSULA, gentlewomen attending on Hero.
Messengers, Watch, Attendants, &c.
Scene: Messina.
ACT I
SCENE I. BEFORE LEONATO’S HOUSE.
Enter Leonato, Hero, and Beatrice, with a Messenger
Leonato
I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon comes this night to Messina.
Messenger
He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him.
Leonato
How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
Messenger
But few of any sort, and none of name.
Leonato
A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.
Messenger
Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how.
Leonato
He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.
Messenger
I have already delivered him letters, and
there appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.
Leonato
Did he break out into tears?
Messenger
In great measure.
Leonato
A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!
Beatrice
I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no?
Messenger
I know none of that name, lady: there was none such in the army of any sort.
Leonato
What is he that you ask for, niece?
Hero
My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.
Messenger
O, he’s returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.
Beatrice
He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged Cupid at the flight; and my uncle’s fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing.
Leonato
Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he’ll be meet with you, I doubt it not.
Messenger
He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
Beatrice
You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach.
Messenger
And a good soldier too, lady.
Beatrice
And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord?
Messenger
A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues.
Beatrice
It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stuffing,— well, we are all mortal.
Leonato
You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her: they never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit between them.
Beatrice
Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.
Messenger
Is’t possible?
Beatrice
Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the next block.
Messenger
I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
Beatrice
No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?
Messenger
He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
Complete Plays, The Page 314