DUKE

BEhold, yond Commet shows his head again; Twice hath he thus at cross-turns thrown on us Prodigious looks: Twice hath he troubled The waters of our eyes. See, he's turned wild; Go on in Gods name. Kinsmen and friends, take from your manly sides Your weapons to keep back the desperate boy From doing violence to the innocent dead. I do beseech you all, for my bloods sake Send hence your milder spirits, and let wrath Join in confederacy with your weapons points; If he proceed oh vex us, let your swords Seek out his bowels: funeral grief loathes words. Frantic young man, Wilt thou believe these gentlemen? pray speak: Thou dost abuse my child, and mockest the tears That here are shed for her: If to behold Those roses withered, that set out her cheeks: That pair of stars that gave her body light, Darkened and dim for ever: All those rivers That fed her veins with warm and crimson streams, Frozen and dried up: If these be signs of death, Then is she dead. Thou unreligious youth, Art not ashamed to empty all these eyes Of funeral tears, (a debt endue to the dead,) As mirth is to the living: Shamest thou not To have them stare on thee? hark, thou art cursed Even to thy face, by those that scarce can speak. What wouldst thou have? is she not dead? Admit I had, thou killest her now again; And art more savage then a barbarous More. Oh fie, fie, fie. I, well done sir, you play the gentleman: Steal hence: 'tis nobly done: away: I'll join My force to yours, to stop this violent torment: Pass on. Exeunt with funeral. O well said, well done, a true gentleman: Alack, I know the sea of lovers rage Comes rushing with so strong a tide: it beats And bears down all respects of life, of honour, Of friends, of foes, forget her gallant youth. Nam, nam, be but patient: For why death's hand hath sued a strict divorce Betwixt her and thee: whats beauty but a coarse? What but fair sand-dust are earth's purest forms: Queens bodies are but trunks to put in worms. Give charge that none do enter, lock the doors; And fellows, what your eyes and ears receive, Upon your lives trust not the gadding air To carry the least partly of it: the glass, the hourglasse. Uncurtain her. Softly sweet Doctor: what a coldish heat Spreads over all her body. Some stools, you called For music, did you not? O ho, it speaks, It speaks, watch sirs her waking, note those sands, Doctor fit down: A Dukedom that should weigh mine Own down twice, being put into onestale: And that found desperate boy Hipolito, Making the weight up should not (at my hands) Buy her i'th tother, were her Than hers, who makes a dowry up Doctor I'll starve her on the Apennine Ere he shall marry her: I must confess, Hipolito is nobly bo ne, a man; Did not mine enemies blood boil in his veins, Whom I would court to be my son in law? But Princes whose high spleens for empery swell, Are not with easy art made parallel. Look Doctor Benedick. I charge you on your lives maintain for truth, What ere the Doctor or my self aver For you shall bear hes hence to Bergaine Girl. Why Infaelisha, how is't now, would, speak? Thou Wertenberg not so even now, sickness pale hand Laid hold on thee even in the deadst offeasting, And when a cap crowned with thy lovers health Had touched thy lips, a sensible cold Due Stood on thy cheeks, as if that death had wept To see such beauty altered. Thou hast forgotten then how a messenger Came wildly in with this unsavoury news That he was dead. Hipolito, alack, wring not thy hands. La you now. La you now, 'tis well God knows. Good Infaelishae vex not thus thy self, Of this the bade rep before did strike So coldly to the heart that the swift currents Of life were all frozen up. And we had much to do by Ar best cunning, To fetch life back again. Why la you now, you'll not believe me, friends, Sweat we not all; had we not much to do? Death drew such fearful pictures in thy face, That were Hipolito alive again, I'll kneel and woo the noble gentleman To be thy husband now I repent My sharpness to him and his family Nay, do not weep for him, we all must die: Doctor, this place where she so oft hath seen H lively presence, haunts her, does it not? It does, it does. Therefore sweet girl thou shalt to Berg n A Coach is ready, Berg does stand In a most wholesome air, sweet walks, theres diere, I, thou shalt hunt and send us venison. Which Like some gods in the groves Thine own fair hand shall strike; sirs, you shall teach he To stand, and how to shoot, I, she shall hunt: Cast off this sorrow In girl, and prepare This night to ride away to Berg . Follow it close. No words that she was buried on your lives Or that her ghost walks now after she's dead; I'll hang you if you name funeral Away look to Did you observe how Upon his name and death, Oh would t'were true. May? how? I wish his death. Perform it; I'll create thee half mine heir. Greatness hides sin, the gilded upon my soul. Exeunt Ah, 'tis mere spent. But Doctor Benedick, does your Art speak truth? Art sure the soporiferous stream will ebb, And leave the Crystal banks of her white body (Pure as they were at first) joust at the hour Who is her husband? Where is he? You have longed fair; 'tis you are mad I fear, Its fit to fetch him thence, and keep you there: If he be mad why would you have him forth? How now? more mad men. How far stands Bethlehem hence? Is't even so, not married till the afternoon you say? Stay, stay, lets work out some prevention: how: This is most strange, can none but madmen serve To dress their wedding dinner? All of you, Get presently to horse; disguise your selves Like Country-gentlemen, Or riding citizens, or so: and take Each man a several path, but let us meet, At Bethlehem Monastery, some space of time Being spent between the arrival each of other, As if we came to see the Lunatics. To horse, away, be secret on your lives, Love must be punished that unjustly thrives. Exeunt. Dream you on Lordshps! come no more Lords: pray You have not seen these lovers yet. How fell he from his wits? Come hither Signior—Are you mad. Why I know that. Thou giu'ft it lively colours: who dare say he's mad, whose words march in so good array? It sin all women should such husbands have. For every man must then be his wives slave. Come therefore you shall teach oh court to shine, So calm a spirit is worth a golden Mine, Wives (with meek husbands) that to vex them long, In Bedlam must they dwell, else dwell they wrong. give us a little leave. Doctor your news. It excellent. Found superstitious fool? Would, would, alack, alack. and died? Thou in that word, Hast pei worser mine aged hours out with more years, Than thou hast taken from Hipolito, A noble youth he was, but lesser branches Hindering the greaters growth, must be lopped off, And feed the fire: Doctor w'are now all thine, And use us so: be bold. hmh. Nay, nay, for that, Doctor look you toot: me it shall not move, Their cursed that ill do, not that ill do love, I, I, we construe so: Confessed: 'tis true. Which to prevent. No matter Doctor, cause isle fearless sleep, And that you shall stand clear of that suspicion I banish thee for ever from my court. This principle is old but true as fate, Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate, Exit. Did you so? Provide a warrant, you shall have our hand. Of what? of whom? whose there! Peace, send that Lord away, A Lordship will spoil all, lets be all fellows. Whats he. What! met upon the very point of time, Is this the place. Castruchio art thou sure this wedding feat, Is not till afternoon? Nay, nay, 'tis Like, thieves must observe their hours, Lovers watch minutes Like Astronomers, How shall the Interim hours by us be spent, O here comes one, question him, question him. Anselmo is the Friar must marry them, Question him where he is, I, well done, tell me, whither is he gone? Few gentlemen or Courtiers here, would. God speed father. How will you do now sirrah? you would killed him. Father whats she I pray? Good Father give her leave. Are holy habits cloaks for villainy? Draw all your weapons. Where are your weapons, draw. You beseech fair, you have me in place fit To bridle me, rise Friar. you may be glad You can make madmen tame, and tame men mad, Since fate hath conquered, I must rest content, To strive now would but and new punishment: I yield unto your happiness, be blessed, Our families shall henceforth breath in rest. Yours now is my consent, I throw upon your joys my full consent. Would thou hadst wit thou pretty soul to ask, As I have will to give. What jewel pretty maid. Had he thy Maidenhead? he shall make thee a mends, and marry thee. And if he bear the mind of a Gentleman, I know he will. Did you? then marry her, you see the wrong Has led her spirits into a lunacy. Nay then, father Anselmo here shall do his best, To bring her to her wits, and will you then? Nay then law shall compel: I tell you sir, So much her hard fate moves me: you should not breath isle marry her. Under this air, unless you married her. Have I thy husband? Come, come, weel have you friends, join hearts, join hands. Signior, me thinks, patience has laid on you Such heavy weight, that you should loath it. For he whose breast is tender blood so cool, That no wrongs heat it, is a patient fool, What comfort do you find in being so calm. Would! where? with whom. Hence with that woman, void the room. Who told me that Hipolito was dead? From Bergamo? is't possible? it cannot be, It cannot be. Whats he? And how long is't ere you recover any of these. My hand, well, here 'tis. Son?