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MUCH ADO

ABOUT

NOTHING.

A Proud Woman.

HERO and URSULA.

Hero. Nature never framed a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice:
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising what they look on; and her wit
Values itself so highly, that to her

All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared.

Urs. Sure, I think so;

And therefore, certainly, it were not good
She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.

Hero. Why, you speak truth: I never yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured,
But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced,
She'd swear, the gentleman should be her sister;
If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic,
Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed;
If low, an agate very vilely cut;

If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
If silent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns she every man the wrong side out;
And never gives to truth and virtue, that
Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.

Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
Hero. No: not to be so odd, and from all fashions,

As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable :

But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,

She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like covered fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly:
It were a better death than die with mocks;
Which is as bad as die with tickling.

KING JOHN.

Maternal Grief and Love.

(ARTHUR, Son of GEFFREY, elder Brother of King JOHN, and rightful Heir to the Throne of England, has been taken Prisoner by the English.)

King PHILIP of France, Cardinal Pandulph, Constance, mother of ARTHUR.

K. Philip. Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; Holding the eternal spirit, against her will,

In the vile prison of afflicted breath :

I pr'ythee, lady, go away with me.

:

Constance. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace! K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance ! Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Death, death:-O amiable, lovely death! Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy détestable bones;

And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows;

And ring these fingers with thy household worms;
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,

And be a carrion monster like thyself:

Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil'st,
And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love,
O, come to me!

K. Phi. O fair affliction, peace.

Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry :-
O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with a passion would I shake the world;
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy,

Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.

Pandulph. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
Const. Thou art not holy, to belie me so;
I am not mad: this hair I tear, is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost :
I am not mad;-I would to Heaven, I were!
For then, 'tis like I should forget myself:
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!—
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal:
For, not being mad, but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be delivered of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself;
If I were mad, I should forget my son;
Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he:
I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of cach calamity.

K. Phi. Bind up those tresses.

Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud,

O that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!
But now I envy at their liberty,

And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.-

And, father cardinal, I have heard you say,

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven:

If that be true, I shall see my boy again;

For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,

There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud,
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost;
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit;
And so he'll die; and, rising so again,

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know him: therefore, never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.

Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
Const. He talks to me, that never had a son.
K. Phi. You are as fond of grief, as of your child.
Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me;
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.
Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.-
I will not keep this form upon my head,

[Tearing off her head-dress,

When there is such disorder in my wit.
O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world!
My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure!

KING HENRY V.

HENRY as King.

Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop of Ely. Canterbury. The king is full of grace, and fair regard. Ely. And a true lover of the holy Church.

Cant. The courses of his youth promised it not.

The breath no sooner left his father's body,

But that his wildness, mortified in him,

Seemed to die too: yea, at that very moment,.
Consideration like an angel came,

And whipped the offending Adam out of him;
Leaving his body as a paradise,

To envelop and contain celestial spirits.
Never was such a sudden scholar made:
Never came reformation in a flood,

With such a heady current, scouring faults;
Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness

So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
As in this king.

Ely. We are blessed in the change.

Cant. Hear him but reason in divinity,

And, all-admiring, with an inward wish

You would desire, the king were made a prelate:
Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,

You would say,-it hath been all-in-all his study:

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